The Muggle-born Queen
by alyssialui
Summary: Voldemort is a half-blood who believes in blood purity, to cleanse the earth of those impure and unworthy of magic. What if this was reversed? A Muggle-born Dark Lady had a vendetta against all that is pure. How will Harry and his friends fight someone like this? AU.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So I went looking for a prompt for a new fanfic, even though I have four currently running, and one about to finish. I went onto the forums and found a challenge from **David-El**, who wanted a muggleborn Dark Lord/Lady, specifically a Hufflepuff Dark Lord/Lady. So I chose a Dark Lady, even more unbelievable than a Dark Lord, but with the twist of Hufflepuff traits. Hufflepuff traits do not make a Dark Witch, but we'll see how I can spin this to make it believable. Anything can have a good and a bad side._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

**Chapter 1 - The Language of Pain**

Light shone warmly through the large round window on her right. The parlour room itself was not impressive. It was large with brown marble tiles but there wasn't much in it. It really had one purpose, which was why she didn't like staying in this room, even with its lovely warmth. She much rather preferred staying in her greenhouse with all the plants, animals, damp smells and the earthy feeling that completely surrounded her. That was what she really loved.

However, right now, she was in her parlour. She sat on a high-backed oak chair, one of the only pieces of furniture in the room. Some would call it a throne, but she didn't like to use such harsh words. She crossed one leg over the other at the knee, bringing her tea cup to her mouth daintily. Ginger tea, something with little a kick to keep her awake. It was definitely too early in the morning for anything stronger.

There was a light knock outside the large doors at the other end of the room. She slowly placed her teacup down before taking a deep breath. This was the part she hated the most, when she to make an example, when she had to exact punishment. She rose from her throne (in this instance, it may as well be a throne) and walked to the edge of the small dais on which it sat. Her long gold dress skirted the ground and tickled her ankles but she paid no mind. There were things to be done.

The doors opened and a struggling man was brought before her, two of her guards walking on either side of him. He raged within their grasps, huffing and spitting as he twisted and turned. His face was red and the veins in his head and neck pulsed. She could feel her own face changing. Whenever she saw one like him, an uncontrollable anger swelled within her and she wanted nothing more than to see people like him crushed beneath her heel. The quiet, demure woman sipping her tea was gone now.

The seething man was thrown onto the floor, her men's wands trained on his wrists, ankles and neck, bounding him in invisible shackles, as they forced him onto his knees. She stepped down from the dais and walked closer to the man, the sound of her heels sharp on the marble floor. The temperature had dropped, even though the sun still shone through the round window. Her counselors often told her she had that effect whenever she got like this but she never felt it. In this moment, she was lost in her own mind, in her own memories, acting only on emotion and she couldn't help if that coldness seeped out of her very pores.

She stopped in front of the man. His head was down, exposing the vulnerable part of his neck to her. His long black hair fell unrestrained over his face as his shoulders heaved and his anger controlled his muscles. She could tell that he hated her. Every aspect of his being hated her. She looked down at him with a cruel grin. She understood hatred.

But she wanted more. She wanted to look into the eyes of this disgusting human being. She reached a small, delicate hand out towards him, her fingers brushed the fringe above his forehead just before he lunged, jaws snapping. Her fingers retreated swiftly and she only offered him an arched eyebrow. Her men tugged back on his restraints and he fell to sit on his ankles, his head falling to his chest once more.

"Mr Rosier, how lovely it is to meet you. I see you are not one to disappoint. You are exactly how I expected you to be."

He pulled his head up on his own and looked into her eyes. Even at his lowest, at her mercy upon his knees, he acted as if he had the upper-hand. His chest and his stature was still proud as he looked at her as if she were scum, the dirt on his expensive shoes. This was why she hated people like him, people who thought they were above her simply for being born.

"I assume you already know who I am," she began. Her hand flew out quickly and grabbed the man's jaw, wrenching it upwards painfully. She saw the grimace on his face before he sneered at her, teeth bared, and growled, just like the dog he was. "I also trust that you know why you're here," she added.

That got the reaction she wanted: the glimmer of fear, the deep swallow, the pale skin. "Now, you understand." She tightened her hold on his jaw, her neatly manicured nails marking half-moon shapes in his flesh. "I'm changing purebloods' stance on this whole mudblood mentality. Now I know you are not one to talk about your problems, I mean, you've already behaved like a lesser animal in my midst. I don't think you're smart enough for reasonable negotiation. It seems you only speak the language of pain when it comes to fraternizing with my kind. So I will speak to you the same."

She prodded the centre of his brow with her wand, his eyes closing from the discomforting touch. Wordlessly, she cast the spell while still holding his jaw in her hand. From previous personal experience, she found that when one body part was fixed in place, the pain and the injuries were more severe. The conflicting muscles, those who would flow with the pain and those held in place, grated on each other; the brain became stressed from the contradicting signals and steadily drove the victim to madness. She saw Rosier's eyes roll to the back of his head as he twitched under her. She smiled as his mouth foamed and gurgling noises left his throat, but her strong grip on his draw held his mouth close and prevented him from screaming out loud. Maybe, if she pushed. just. a. little. further.

"Madam."

Her concentration broke and the man fell from her grip onto the marble floor. Involuntary convulsions racked his body as she gazed down at him, blood oozing from his mouth and his nose. Another wound seemed to have opened up on his abdomen and his once pristine white shirt now stained red. She looked at the guard, the one who had called to her, and righted herself, brushing her hands on her dress and returning her wand to her side.

"Thank you, Patrick. Please take this man to the holding cells. If he is beyond saving, dispose of him."

The two men bowed low before levitating the man out of the room behind them. Large fat drops of 'pure' blood fell onto the brown marble tile in his wake, the sun glinting off the tiny red pools. She had tortured a man in broad daylight. She groaned as she sank into her chair which was no longer a throne. This was not the first time blood was shed here by her hand. This was not the first time a man lay convulsing at her feet, not even the fiftieth time. Her hatred of them and her love of her kind drove her to do this. She lost herself in her hatred and then had to live with her tumultuous feelings afterwards. This was why she hated the parlour. Maybe she would need that strong drink now.

* * *

She sat in her study nursing a tumbler of whiskey. It was what her father always drank after a long day at work and once she was older, she found out exactly why it helped him. Her father. It always stung when she thought about her parents. Thinking of them brought forward all the hatred she had for those purebloods. That was when she truly began to hate purebloods, when she truly began to hate, though she didn't know at the time. She almost spat her whiskey out onto her deep red rug but she didn't. Whiskey was too precious to waste.

Lucille Prickett had grown up like any normal little girl. Living in a small white house in the middle of Surrey, Lucille was bright, carefree and loved by her parents. She was an only child and the cutest thing to grace her quiet, little neighbourhood. Her blonde hair was allowed to grow free, Mr and Mrs Prickett raised her without rules and without restraints, and she revelled in the warmth that came with their love.

She wore the prettiest dresses to match the prettiest smile anyone had ever seen on a little five-year-old girl. She had the prettiest voice which morphed into the prettiest laugh as when played with her little puppy. She would sing to herself as she played in the backyard and she always said 'Please' and 'Thank You'. She was the perfect princess and Lucille knew it. Lucille knew she was perfect in people's eyes. No matter what she did, people would fawn over her, whether she wanted it or not. Random strangers would pick up in the street as she walked with her parents, showering her with kisses and presents, even though they didn't know her. Lucille was happy.

Lucille performed her first feat of accidentally magic while sitting in her room, having her own tea party. She didn't even know she was doing anything strange, pouring tea for her stuffed animals with a floating teapot. Her mother had found her, the teapot tipped to give Mr Thomas the turtle something to drink, who was seated at the opposite side of the tiny table. Her mother, though wary, still thought this was the cutest thing Lucille had done, shouting at once for her husband to come look. They encouraged their daughter and her strange abilities, though they did keep it secret from the world. Magic was real it seemed and though marvellous, not everyone would see it the same. But Lucille was their perfect, magical little girl.

But then, suddenly in the dead of night, her parents were snuffed out by pureblood teenagers with nothing better to do than find and torture a couple of muggles. They did not know that Lucille was muggleborn. They did not even know she was in the house. They had unlocked the Prickett's front door and stole up the stairs to her parents' bedroom. The teenagers had their fun, contorting her parents' bodies into impossible shapes and then aligning them into lewd positions. Their clothes were stripped and their dignity destroyed until the teenagers got bored at how easy it had been and just disappeared. The muggles would eventually die on their own, and the muggle police would simply think it was some creepy serial killer or psychopath. The teenagers would face no retribution, no punishment for their crimes.

Lucille watched it all from the crack of her little room door. She watched as the people she loved, the people she idolized, her mother who would sing as she baked and her dad who would read the newspaper out loud at the breakfast table. She watched as blood spurted from their ears, eyes, nose, mouth and places that blood shouldn't even come out of. But she kept quiet. She did not want those boys to turn on her.

When they left, she slowly pattered to their bedroom, scared that one boy had lingered behind, scared that they would come, but sickly curious to see her parents. She stood in their doorway not wanting to go any further. There was a gurgling noise and laboured breathing, her parents' nude bodies clothed in a thick layer of blood. Their once perfect life was now imperfect, marred and desecrated beyond repentance and fell to the floor clutching her legs to her chest and shutting her eyes tightly, letting loose loud wails of despair. Her perfect world now shattered and Lucille mourned for her parents and the loss of her old life.

There were loud pops outside Lucille's home but she did not hear anything until there were footfalls coming up the stairs. Lucille crawled into the shadows, her wails grinding to a deafening stop. The boys had come back! Little balls of light attached to sticks led three men into her parents' bedroom, casting long shadows in all directions. The men grimaced and one dry-heaved before they attended to her parents. Lucille let out a whimper, clapping a hand to her mouth. Oh no!

One man turned towards her but his face was kind. "Hello there." She was unsure. He had a stick just like the teenagers. "I'm not going to hurt you." He came closer and scooped her into his arms. Lucille was used to strangers picking her up, but not like this. But she remained still in the man's arms not wanting to provoke or anger him. He started to rock her slightly and Lucille felt her eyes droop. The last thing she heard was, "Where will we put her?"


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: So in the first chapter, we see the beginning of the corruption of a little girl, the little girl who grew into my dark lady. _It's starting out a bit slow to build up her character, why she became powerful and how she built her army, _more about her background and a bit of insight into her mind. A Hufflepuff doesn't really have dark thoughts or explicitly dark, but I imagine a Hufflepuff Dark Lady would at least have dark moments, dark enough to drive her mad at times. But then she would come back and rethink her actions._

_Her interactions with the golden trio will come up in later chapters, maybe even the next but we'll see. Draco's involvement will follow some time after._

_Also, I stole the Centaur's name from Eragon if anyone noticed._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. And as always: RxR. FxF._

* * *

**Chapter 2 - The Creatures Around Us**

She retreated into her room afterwards. There was no more business for her to attend to today. Her counsellors could oversee the outstanding issues that plague her organization. Someone would have to out and visit the settlements and also to fix the wards, someone else would have to tend to the farms and the factories, but she would definitely have to visit the potions lab on her own. Some other time maybe.

Her living space was plain with minimal furniture but very lived in. She prided herself on efficiency. Everything was just the right amount and never overboard. The only thing that was more than enough, though she never thought of it that way, were her plants. There was a door to the side that led to her own private gardens, practically overflowing with a myriad of plants, ranging from the exotic to the mundane, muggle and magical alike. She understood plants better than she understood people, though her understanding of people had improved over the years.

She walked past the glass doors to the outside without a passing glance. There would be no gardening today. She just wanted to be by herself for awhile. Shedding her gold dress and removing the chain around her head, she moved slowly around the room in her long, modest undergarments. She stopped before the window and gazed out, knowing no one could see her like this. She often did this after she exited her parlour room. She had to distance herself from the events that unfolded in there. But then it was just her and her thoughts and she was forced to listen to herself: Did the ends justify the means? She asked herself this question almost every time. Did the death and torture of purebloods really remove the prejudice they had against her kind? Did their pain really equal the pain her parents had gone through, the pain and scorn she had gone through, the disgraceful and degrading treatment her kind had gone through for centuries at the purebloods' hands? Sometimes a 'yes' practically screamed out the answer, with no purebloods, then no one would be able to degrade anyone. But on days like today, it was less powerful and doubt would creep into her mind. Was there a better way to go about doing something like this?

There was a light knock on the door pulled her away from the window and she took her time donning her light robe to cover herself. This was her place of safety and comfort and damned be anyone who wanted to disturb her or make her who she wasn't. She called the person into the room and was surprised to find it was one of her counsellors. Only those who were close to her would ever think to enter her quarters, much less her bedroom. A smile instantly adorned her face. "Peter, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Peter had been one of the first people to believe in her cause. Peter had been just like her and his past was almost as dark. But like her, he had saved himself, brought himself out of that darkness and was standing before her. But something was off today. His face was set in a hard line and his eyes held no warmth, effectively wiping the smile off her face. This was important. She mirrored his expression and stood up straight. "Is something amiss?"

"There is someone here who wishes to see you," he said. With how tight-lipped and crisp his tone was, she noticed the urgency of this meeting. She nodded before he stepped out of her room to give some privacy. She moved to her closet and pulled out a long, simple, brown gown and quickly slipped it on, before allowing Peter to take her to her guest. Peter gave her more details about her guest and she grew more wary with every step. But once outside the large doors of her study, she composed herself into the epitome of calm and collected. Guards stood to the sides of the doors, their expressions matching Peter's. She nodded at them as she walked inside.

The window had been opened in her absence, letting a soft breeze move through the room. A figure was standing near the open window, gazing out at the vast forest beyond. He had a cold, distrusting expression on his face but he soon adopted one of indifference as he heard her step into the room. He probably heard even as she was walking down the long hallway. Centaurs were known for their acute hearing.

She also understood Peter's attitude now, she understood the looks on the guards' face outside. Centaurs were not one to change plans. Centaurs were methodical and exact, planners who mapped everything from the stars years in advance to the last second and degree. Whatever reason he had to deviate had the potential to be very dangerous if his expression was anything to go off.

She walked calmly towards the tea set that had been set in the room for her and her guest. "Murtagh, I thought our meeting was scheduled for next week Wednesday. What urgent matter has come up that you would see me sooner?" She held a cup of steaming jasmine tea out to him.

He spoke to her levelly, ignoring the cup in her hand. "There has been attack on my herd yesterday, the third in only this month. Many of our young foals have been captured. We know what they do to them. They are skinned to make clothing and sold as meat and ingredients for potions. We cannot stand by any longer. We look to you for protection against these poachers."

She replaced the cup on the tea set. She hadn't expected to him to accept the cup anyway. It would definitely have been surprising if he had. She approached him, her hands clasped in front of her and made herself as small as possible. She did not want to startle him. "You do know that the price of my protection is allegiance to me. You must fight in my army, fight for my cause, when called upon. No matter the time, no matter the cost."

He nodded coldly, "I have already weighed the consequences. We cannot afford another meaningless slaughter of our innocents."

Her gaze hardened and he had the sense to step back from her. "You must fully understand what this alliance would mean, Murtagh. You are pledging you and your herd's loyalty to me in one final sweep. This contract cannot be broken for any reason. Even if I should ask you to slaughter the whole herd, you would be required to do so. Are you sure you want to do something like this?"

He took another step back, his hooves clacking on the wooden floor as he stepped off the soft rug in the middle of the room. His eyes flashed with fury, his facade falling. He huffed and said loudly, "You would force me kill my herd, my family?"

She stepped away from him and watched his subtle movements. Centaurs were also known to be very short-tempered and she may have already lit the fuse on this ticking time bomb. But she had to make sure he understood what he was getting into. She would never trick someone into joining her. "I try to avoid conflicts, so it should never come to something like that dire. But if I place you on the frontlines, you must be ready to die for me. If you are captured, you must be prepared to protect my interests at all costs. And if it is pertinent that I must remove the lot of you, you must obey without question whatever the means. Is my protection worth the potential death of your herd?"

There was strangled noise in his throat as he gawked at her. Images of his herd's dead bodies on the forest floor flashed in his mind. She couldn't be serious. "I am dead serious." The centaur froze. Centaurs were masters of the mind as much as they were masters of the stars. They learnt to read body language and thoughts before all else and even the youngest foal knew how to fend off mental attacks. As the leader of his herd, he was easily the most skilled, his mind always warded subconsciously, but he realized now that he had grossly underestimated the woman before him. This woman, petite, soft-spoken, kindness that radiated off her in waves who continued to smile at him, despite the harsh words she had just said, had slipped past his defences so seamlessly, he had no idea if she was currently still within them.

If she was, she said nothing about it. But her eyes still pierced him. She spoke slowly and clearly, "Murtagh, I need your answer now. If this is as urgent as you say, then you must decide quickly. Will you place your loyalty in my hands? I prize loyalty above all else."

He swallowed hard and the image of his dead family flashed again. But there was also the fresh image of those foals that were captured. He could not allow those _monsters_ to kill his herd, no matter how steep this price seemed. He could not allow his own children to become coats and meals for those wizards who thought themselves above others. He needed her protection.

He bent low on his front hooves before her, his head down. If he had his quiver and bow, he would have crossed it over his chest, a sign of loyalty within his herd. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smile but her kind eyes had flashed with a possessive, sickeningly gleeful look for just a moment. There was something underneath that face and Murtagh wondered if he had done the right thing.

Then she gestured to him and he rose off the floor. The steaming cup was offered to him once more. "Lovely, Murtagh. I will call Peter to draft the agreement. And you will attend a fealty ceremony next Wednesday. It had already been planned for the day of your intended visit. Please be punctual and bring your own advisors and counsellors if you'd like. We will hash out the details of the protection then."

He accepted the tea cup now which felt much heavier than it actually appeared. Her eyes never left him as she chatted amicably about other matters, though her smile now reached them. It was as if everything that was said had all been a dream.

* * *

Lucille had learnt of the merits of creatures, human-like and otherwise, long ago and how it important relations between species were. Even when she had her perfect life, she had an affinity for animals. She had befriended all the neighbours' pets, even the strays would run up to her and nuzzle her hands. She never really understood this pull she had on the animals but she did not question it. They loved her and she loved them.

Animals were easy to understand, their emotions were simple. They felt happiness, they felt love and they felt loyalty. They could also feel sadness, depression and pain she found out. She would see how others would treat these animals, as if they were lower than thou. And she could not stand every time she saw such injustice. Later in life, she would liken their disdain to that shown to her and she related these animals' plight. She had been an animal in those people's eyes, even less than an animal. A mudblood. A dirty blooded witch. She would change their minds of animals, she would change their mind of others.

She found out that creatures were strong and very powerful. Even the smallest creature had defensive and offensive mechanisms and strategies they used to subdue their predators and their prey. And she knew that having these creatures on her side would be beneficial. The purebloods were too stupid and prejudiced to understand the power they foolishly taunted and tortured. Too blind to realize an abused animal would eventual lashed out at the abuser.

There had been a specific incident when she realized a creature's true abilities. Lucille was at Hogwarts, hanging near the edge of Forbidden Forest. Her school shirt was muddy and her socks rolled down as she crouched near the base of a tree. She had been visiting the small spiders that ventured this close to the school. They crawled around her, tickling her fingers and eating the bugs she had dug up near the bank of the Black Lake. These young acromantulas were naive and did not know the dangers of humans yet. Or maybe they did but ignored their parents warnings. She giggled at the thought of disobedient acromantula teenagers. If it meant they were her friends, so be it.

There were footsteps behind her and she turned to greet the newcomers with a smile. She always had a pleasant look on her face, always wanting to show the best of herself to others. Then her smile fell when she noticed their uniforms. Three Slytherin boys stood before, cocky smiles on their faces, their long strides grinding to a stop in front of her. They stood straight-backed and looked down at her from their noses. Their clothes were impeccable, making a silently mockery of her own dishevelled appearance.

"Look at this little Puff hanging out by the trees. Aren't you scared of an animal coming making a morsel out of you."

His friends guffawed and one thumped the boy who spoke first on the upper arm. "Thaddeus, not even a creature of the forest would want a mudblood for dinner. Probably upset their stomach."

They laughed together, their strong voices almost melodious with delight, and she shrunk away from them. She looked around the grounds and she noticed she was the only one out here, her and these boys. They looked like 5th years and they would easily hurt a small first year. She placed foot behind the other, inching backwards slowly. She wanted to disappear within the trees and out of sight. But then they suddenly pulled their wands on her. "Where do you think you're going, you little Puff?"

She closed her eyes as she waited for their curses. She was used to this, but usually she was cornered in an empty hallway. Not outside. Not with her animals.

And then there was screaming. The baby acromantulas had jumped from the ground and onto the Slytherins' faces. The boys clawed at their faces, throwing the spiders to the side. But the spiders took this opportunity to crawl into their open mouths, while others crawled up their legs. Then all the spiders sank their fangs into flesh at once depositing their poison in the boys' veins. The boys fell as her feet, their mouths frothing as they convulsed on the grass. They no longer looked prestigious. More like dirty. And as calm as ever, the acromantulas retreated from the boys' bodies and climbed up her own legs, nuzzling her softly. She petted each one, smiling at them, and then ran back to the castle, leaving the boys behind.

Now those boys didn't die. Young acromantula poison isn't deadly but they had spent a few weeks in the hospital wing as the nurse waited for the poison to leave their system. When they were released, she never met them again, in the halls, on the grounds, in the Great Hall. They never spoke to her and she assumed they never told anyone. What would they say? They were mocking a little Hufflepuff girl and little spiders attacked them. They themselves would be mocked and one thing Slytherins were were proud, self-preserving cowards. They would never make themselves the butt of a joke and they would never offer helpful information to another, not even on their kind. They were not loyal and that justified the smug feeling Lucille felt every time she thought back to that moment.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I stayed up all night trying to write this chapter and now I finally feel good about it. In this chapter, we don't see current Lucille but I introduce to you the Order__, who hope to bring peace to the wizarding world. But how to you protect people who don't want to be protected? They have their work cut out for them, especially with the enigma known as Lucille. And again, we get more information about Lucille, and her friend, George. RxR. FxF._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

**Chapter 3 - A Reason for the Madness**

"Sorry I'm late," Remus said as he took his seat at the long table. He stared around the room at the other gaunt faces that looked as tired as he felt. He saw his best friends' eyes light up a bit at his entrance before they all turned back to Albus Dumbledore.

"Good evening, Remus. I hope you are well." It was almost the full moon and Albus knew very well just how on edge Remus was feeling at the moment. But Remus put on a brave face and replied, "All things considered."

With a small nod, Albus returned to addressing the room. "I think now we can begin. As you all know, Evan Rosier has gone missing." A few heads around the room nodded while the others waited for Albus to continue. "We visited his home and there was no sign of forced entry, nothing was taken and no magical traces were left behind. It would seem the man just walked out of him home one morning. But that was more than a week ago, and we know a man like Rosier would not stay away from his luxuries for an extended period of time."

"The disappearances have been steadily increasing. Previously it was Druella Black, though Mr Rosier didn't seem too shaken up by his aunt's leave of absence at the time. I assume they were not very close. The press has been keeping mum about the whole thing. They don't want others to know that someone is picking off purebloods one by one. And She knows how they think. That's how She's getting away with it. The most traditional pureblood is not one to broadcast their misfortunes or alert another of a potential pitfall. This mentality works to Her advantage."

James spoke up now, "But what can we do? The disappearances have nothing else in common besides just being purebloods and seem to be in no particular order. If we don't stop Her, we don't even know who would be next. The only reason we know She's behind them is because one of Her guys botched a kidnapping. By time we caught the man, he killed himself and the pureblood before our eyes."

Frank nodded solemnly, "Her followers are very loyal to Her, ready to kill themselves when the moment calls. It's hard to sway such devoted people."

"And because of that, we don't know where She takes them. It could be anywhere, even as far as France if She desired. There have disappearances there, as well as Spain, but again, those purebloods are also staying silent about the whole business," Lily added from James' right.

"With regards to the next disappearance, we have been trying to stake out their homes but when the lady of the house is threatening to hex your blood-traitor ass off her property, you can't get close enough to offer the best protection." Arthur said. Molly rubbed her hands across his knuckles and he leaned into her.

"We should storm into one of the homes and just wait for Her to show," Moody said, slamming his fist onto the table. His eye whirred around at each person's faces. Some seemed to agree with his idea but Dumbledore held up his hand and spoke strongly. "Alastor, we will not do this by force. We cannot make them accept our help."

Moody's mouth opened up and gaped at the elder wizard, "So we just let them die? If so, why are we even having these meetings?"

"To protect the purebloods who actually want to live. To protect the purebloods who don't want their families to cry for them when they disappear," Sirius practically shouted as he jumped from his seat. He shot a look at James, who met his gaze. Lily pulled Sirius back into his seat as Moody looked ready to jump from his own.

Dumbledore quieted the room. "And as it stands, we still don't Her next target. All these manors are heavily warded, some even under their own Fidelius Charms, but that doesn't seem to stop Her from finding whichever one She wants. It could be James, Sirius or even Frank next. All we can do now is protect the ones who are willing to accept our help and observe those who don't. But we need more information to go off. That'll be our assignment for the week and we will meet up again at the Burrow. You are dismissed."

Everyone filed out of the room and into the kitchen where Molly had prepared dinner. Hermione pulled on the back of Harry and Ron's shirts and dragged them into the hallway.

"Hermione, I'm hungry. Can't this wait?" Ron said, rubbing his stomach.

"No. You heard Dumbledore. The disappearances are getting worse and we're no closer to finding anything about this woman. She must be getting stronger if it's getting even easier to carry them out, but we don't even know just how strong She is," Hermione said, her hands waving as she spoke. "We can't just sit back and let this happen. We have to do something."

"But Hermione, what can we do that the adults can't? They have been in the Order longer than we have. They formed after the first disappearances started happening sometime around when we were born. They finally trust us to sit in on meetings and I don't want to mess that up so soon." Harry scratched the back of his neck. He could just imagine how angry his mum would be if she knew what Hermione wanted to do.

"But Harry, your dad is a pureblood, Sirius is a pureblood. Ron, you and your family are purebloods. We are so clueless, we don't know if She'd even go after them. Maybe She has a soft spot for blood-traitors. She hasn't kidnapped anyone like that but do you really want to wait until that happens? She needs to be stopped now!"

"But again, what can we do? We-"

"Children!" Mrs Weasley called from the kitchen.

Hermione looked towards the voice and then whispered to her friends, "I'll tell you later."

* * *

To understand once-perfect Lucille's hatred of the purebloods, one needs to know what happened after her parents had been tortured.

She found out that the men who had taken her from her home were wizards and worked for the Ministry of Magic, the teenage boys who tortured her parents were also wizards. But they were special, different; they were purebloods. And purebloods did not care for her kind or her heritage.

Upon finding out she was actually a muggleborn witch and not just a muggle, Lucille was placed in a magical orphanage. At St. Grundy's Orphanage, she was surrounded with other muggleborns who had experienced similar fates. There was an unspoken bond between them. They shared their stories of their pasts, they shared their dreams and they shared their nightmares, their hopes and their fears. It was their love that helped Lucille from being as broken as she could have been.

But in a society where the purebloods monopolized the government, through money and status, they were considered burdens on society and the orphanage was entitled to the minimal amount of funds. The building was unimpressive and uninviting, with cold, grey walls, hard, stone floors and cramped rooms that held two more kids than they should. There was no warmth, there were no kisses or presents, there was no love. This imperfect place contrasted sharply with the perfect life Lucille had lived. She had gone from the apple of everyone's eye to the speck of dirt on the wall.

The orphanage was run by two of the meanest women Lucille had ever met, Madame Rowle and Madame Thwaites. They made their distaste for all the orphans blatantly known and would punish anyone if given any reason. Like her friend, George. George was one of Lucille's best friends. He acted more like her brother as he was two years older than her and seem to think it was his job to protect her from the other larger kids. Sometimes it annoyed Lucille, but she loved her brother all the same.

George had been found on the street huddled tightly in ratty blankets. His muggle parents had not liked that their son was different. One day, they all went for a ride in the family car. They drove for a long time to an area that George had never been before and then they suddenly stopped. George had been almost asleep when his father forcibly woke him up. Without a word, they opened the door, pushed George out and drove off. George had never seen them again.

But today was George's birthday. The matrons did not celebrate birthdays but the kids would always celebrate one of their own. They even had managed to steal one of Madame Rowle's cupcakes for the occasion. They all met up in George's room after the lights went out and George couldn't be happier. All the children crowded around George who sat on the floor with the cupcake in front of him. They sang songs and jumped around the room and Lucille could remember the wide smile on George's face even to this day.

But then Madame Rowle showed up. "Naughty children out of bed."

She stepped into the small room, the light of the lamp she carried casting eerie shadows on the children's long faces. Her silver hair was pulled into a high bun on the top of her head and her long black night gown trailed on the floor behind her. All the children stood back as she entered the room with quivering lips. She flicked her wand, sticking all the children to the wall except George. He looked up at her with wide, fearful eyes, and he drew into himself. Madame Rowle walked closer to him and smiled. Madame Rowle never smiled, ever. All the children on the walls started to whimper, fearing for their friend as tears sprung to his eyes. They knew he was in trouble now.

She said sweetly, "George, is it your birthday today?"

George did not respond but looked down. She screeched, grabbing him off the floor by his arm. "Answer me, boy!"

George squeaked out, "Yes, Madame Rowle."

Her eyes fell onto the cupcake that sat on George's bed. Lucille had stuck a small stick she found outside in the middle to act as their candle. Madame Rowle bent low and picked up the cupcake. She cooed, "How cute. Let me light this for you."

Instead of lighting the stick, she crumpled the cupcake in her hand and pointed her wand at George. Instantly, George clothes and hair caught on fire. Madame Rowle smiled as his clothes began to disintegrate, George's screams adding to the whooshing sound of the burning fire. Lucille and her friends screamed with her but Madame Rowle pretended not hear them.

Lucille couldn't bear to watch her brother cry out in such pain. She closed her eyes tightly, wishing that George would stop screaming, wishing that George would be saved, wishing that George would stop burning, wishing that Madame Rowle would stop torturing him.

George's screams stopped and Madame Rowle's began. The flames which danced upon George's skin had somehow latched on to Madame Rowle's hair and clothes. She patted her body and head as she ran out of the room. The spell which kept the children on the wall broke as she crossed the threshold and Lucille fell off to the floor. They all scrambled to George's side but knowing they could do nothing for him.

Madame Rowle was furious but she could not single out who had stopped her spell. But Lucille knew. She had wished hard enough and it happened as she wanted. She had done accidental magic, or as Madame Thwaites said, a mockery to all things pure. Muggles doing magic was the devil's work and all accidental magic was punished. All the orphans, including George, had to scrub the walls and floors until someone came forward. But the matrons didn't understand that the orphans were loyal to each other and would suffer together for one of their own. Unfortunately, George had died a few days after the incident due to his untreated burns but knowing that he was loved by his sisters and brothers.

Lucille spent the next three years in the orphanage, her light dimming a little with each day after George's death. It was not until years later would Lucille find out that Madame Rowle and Madame Thwaites too were pureblood witches.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: My flashbacks don't flash in chronological order. They flash based on the events that are supposed be happening real time. So if they seem a bit confusing, I'm sorry about that._

_In this chapter, we see Lucille carrying out the fealty ceremony with the new Centaur herd. And we see our favourite trio as Hagrid gives them some interesting information. And our flashback for today shows Lucille and her new family._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter_

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Welcome to the Family**

"Madam, you have to get ready for the fealty ceremony," Patrick said as he ran behind her down the narrow aisles of the main greenhouse. She finally found time to attend to her plants and get the much needed ingredients. She held her hand above her head, brushing the tips of her fingers along the cattails which hung in planters from above. She smiled when she heard the soft mewling sound from above and ignored the groaning behind her. She dug through the flower bed on her right, pulling and flinging nasty weeds out and over her shoulder.

When Patrick's footsteps finally stopped beside her, she turned towards him and almost laughed at the amount of dirt that landed in his hair. She placed the restrained Devil's Snare clippings in the large basket he carried for her, plucking each thorn and clinging vine carefully from her hands and fingers.

"Patrick, the ceremony is in three hours. The other counsellors have already been given instructions on the setup and Jenna and Marie are attending to the guests that have already arrived. Murtagh and his advisors have already been given accommodations so they too are being well kept. So I think I can spend a little time in the greenhouses. You know I don't like giving anyone else this job if I can do it myself."

"But Madam," he urged, yelping a little as one of the Devil's Snare vines threatened to wrap around the basket handle. "You need to get ready, to get bathed, dressed and refreshed. You need to go over the notes David had given you this morning."

She looked down at her own appearance as he spoke. She was dressed in a pair of oversized overalls that had seen better days but it was one of her most prized possessions. Every part of her that was exposed was covered in a thick layer of dirt. Particles crumbled off her arms and the clumps caked under her nails and near her hairline. Her hair, though normally fair and light, was now heavy and darkened by the soil. But she seemed to be having the time of her life being in this garden. "Oh there'll be plenty of time, Patrick. We're almost done here." She smiled at him sweetly.

Patrick almost melted right there, before a long thorn embedded itself in his palm. He dropped the basket suddenly, which overturned and allowed the Devil's Snare clippings to inch their way out. She turned sharply to him at the sound and the sweet woman he saw was gone now. The air felt still in the warm greenhouse and Patrick held his breath. Her gaze fell to the escaping plants trying to drag themselves off the stone path and into the dirt. She flicked her fingers towards them and they rose from the ground as if controlled by an invisible marionette. The once eager vines now waved through the air slowly trying to anchor themselves on something though there was nothing there. She bent down and picked up the basket before shoving it roughly into Patrick's hand. Her voice was level as she said, "Patrick, please be more careful," before she turned back to the flower beds and allowed Patrick to grab the plants out of the air.

* * *

After sending Patrick away to deliver the plants to the potions labs, she went to her quarters to get dressed. Today was an important day and although she would have loved to lounge around, she had to get ready. She pulled a long gold gown out of her closet. The bottom flared from her waist outwards but was tight around her chest. The sheer sleeves ended her elbows and the collar was pulled high on her neck. She pulled her hair high on her head in a long looping braid, pining it down with small clips which looked like silver flowers. Then she walked through the halls towards the ballroom flanked by two guards and a smile on her face. From David's notes, it seemed everything was now in place for today.

The ballroom grandly decorated in various reds, greens, golds and blues. Though the colours may have seemed overpowering together, Jenna and Marie really outdid themselves. When she stepped through the threshold, she was very pleased. She would have to reward them very well. Her guests bent low as she entered before resuming their activities. She walked straight to the front of the ballroom and bowed to Murtagh and two of his advisors. They would stay near the podium with her. The rest of his party were mingling about the room, and two of his guards stood near the doors with her own.

Other people were also there of note and before she began the proceedings, she greeted each one individually: Vladmir from Sector V2 who stood in the shadows and was covered from head to toe in an elegant set of black dress robes with silver trimming, Trogbog from Sector G1 who was standing outside the ballroom window on the lawns with two of his clan, Mr and Mrs Ylid from Sector M3 who Jenna had placed in a large tank on the right of the room. She spoke to the caretakers of the different settlements and a few other people she had offered protection to. And during all this, she fielded questions and made mental notes of their issues. Anything to keep her family happy.

But then it was time to begin. She strolled up the podium and placed her hands firmly on its surface. The podium was mostly for show. She had no note cards or papers to read from, she needed no microphone in this magical setting, but the podium gave her much needed authority and commanded respect from all in attendance. Her voice bounced around the room clearly as she addressed her company, "Good Afternoon, everyone, and isn't it a fine afternoon. Wouldn't you agree, Trogbog?" There was loud cheers and grunts from outside and polite clapping and chattering from her guests indoors.

She smiled out and said, "Today, we welcome another into our fold. Another one of us has suffered at the hand of those monsters, those who think we are the monsters! I for one do not think I am a monster, do you?"

The crowd rose in uproar before she spoke again. "We all have dreams, and wants, and feelings, that are obviously too complex for them to understand. I do all I can to ensure that people like us, people who are oppressed simply for being born the way were are, will be understood, can feel safe, can feel free to move as they please. And today, I want to grant that freedom to Murtagh and his herd."

She gestured towards him and stepped forward. Everyone clapped and chittered and the giants thumped on their forearms. With a slight inclination of his head, Murtagh greeted the crowd before turning to her. He bent on his front hooves as he had the day in her study, his two advisors flanking him following suit. Their heads were held low with their bows crossed over their chests. She accepted her staff, used only for events such as these, and stepped back from the bowed Centaurs. It was finely hewn from a white birch tree and stood at six feet high, a few inches above her. Thin golden lines were carved into the wood which revealed a web of intricate patterns in the right light. She raised it above the Centaurs' heads and tapped each of Murtagh's shoulders and then the crown of his head. Then she mimicked their stances and bent low before them, her knees hovering above the floor as she crossed her right arm over her chest and said, "Diu armento."

She did not miss the sudden shift in Murtagh's advisors, a slight feeling of shock but new sense of respect had come over them and she knew she had done the right thing. She had done her research, as she did with all her family members, and she knew their beliefs and customs back and front. This was a sign of respect within the herd and the three centaurs said under their breath, as was the reply, "De armento in nobis."

She smiled to herself and then cleared her throat, "Let's begin."

"Ego sum apud te," she said clearly, enunciating each syllable perfectly. A white light shone out of her chest. If Murtagh was surprised, he did not show it. He continued the oath, his strong voice cradling each word, "Sicut et ego vobiscum." A similar light shone from his own chest. Then they said together, "Nos unum sumus."

The white lights shone brighter and a splitting pain ripped through her chest. She had done this countless times before but Murtagh's deep scream filled the ballroom. She had warned his people of the proceedings and how they should not interfere, but now she could see the uncertainty on their faces watching their leader cry out in anguish. But they stood their ground, especially from the look their leader shot them even through the pain. And then it was over. Murtagh stumbled forward, his front legs buckling as his advisors shot out to catch him, but she held her balance, her breathing only slightly laboured. She looked to the crowd. Everyone had watched them with kind, empathetic eyes. They had all gone through this with their own fealty bonds.

She raised off her knees and walked towards the Centaur and helped him onto his feet. It seemed his advisors were too surprised she was strong enough to support the large Centaur or there would have probably been an upset for a female, whichever species, to help a downed male. But she could not stand to see Murtagh hurt any longer.

She turned to her guests, "Everyone, please welcome Murtagh, his advisors Chiron and Didier, along with the rest of his herd into our family. Now let us dine together as one."

Tables loaded with food appeared scattered around the room pertaining to each person's preferred diet. Her family was only treated to the best and she loved each and everyone of them. Murtagh it seemed had recovered somewhat from the bonding spell and he too was enjoying the array of different fowls she had prepared for him and his party.

Once the meal was finished, she returned to the podium and spoke above the crowd, "Before we disperse, there is something I would like to present to Murtagh and his herd." She beckoned to Murtagh and he came to stand on her left. She then gestured to one of her guards, who disappeared out of a side door from the ballroom. Then the large doors were opened and two guards came through holding someone between them.

It brought back flashes of her morning in the parlour the week before and she would have shuddered had she been alone. This had been her idea but she had made it during one of her hatred-driven moments. When David had given her the news, the fire had been ignited inside her and she thought it as the perfect gift to present at the fealty ceremony. Her counsellors would have never tried to change her mind in matters such as this. She hadn't even reconsidered the arrangement after it was made.

Rosier was brought before the whole party and placed on the floor before her and Murtagh. His face turned up to hers and there was a drastic change from the man she had seen before. Her keepers had cleaned him up a bit. From what she heard, she had really pushed the limits, but the healers assured that he had no lasting damage. They had given him new clothes, shaved him and fed him. He would have been his old pureblood self but the waves of arrogance that had come off him before was now gone. Now there was a man who was begging at her feet, at a mudblood's feet. She loved moments like these as well as, the moment a pureblood realized that he was at the mercy of the very thing he despised. She relished in the irony, these moments didn't happen often, and her doubts and regrets were completely washed away again.

In the back of her mind, she noticed that the ballroom had instantly quieted and every eye was trained on the man before. Some were glaring at him, their hatred of his kind almost matching her own.

"Murtagh, do you recognize this man at all?" She asked, ignoring the tugs on the hem of her dress.

Murtagh looked down at the man, his nostrils flaring as he studied him, before he said, "This pureblood is not one I know."

She turned to the tugging and said kindly, "Mr Rosier, if you would stand for me?"

The man scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could and held her hand delicately. She smiled at him before saying to Murtagh, "I found some startling information about Mr Rosier that I thought would interest you as well. I would like you to consider this a gift. I give you the gift of avenging your young foals."

Murtagh's eyes steeled as he scrutinized the man before him. Rosier's eyes hadn't left her face and he seemed to have no clue what was being said. But Murtagh had caught on. Murtagh stepped backwards from the man, as if being anywhere close might poison him, and pulled out his bow and an arrow.

When Rosier finally noticed the Centaur standing a few feet from him, his face adopted a sneer before it was wiped clean with fear. She noticed the sneer and scolded the man before her as if he was an insolent child, "That was a horrid move, Mr Rosier. It's impolite to sneer at a guest. I thought Thomas would have taught you better during your time here." She moved her hand soothingly over his own that was still holding her hand.

She said to Murtagh again, "We found out that Mr Rosier had been the one who hired those poachers to attack several herds. We did contact those other herds but I am giving him to you to do as you wish."

Then she shoved Rosier to the floor. He landed awkwardly on his bottom, slightly sprawled across the ballroom floor. Murtagh's arrow never left Rosier's head. The man looked up at her, beads of sweat on his forehead, his skin even paler than before. His eyes were wide and he still refused to look at Murtagh. She stood above him and said, "Mr Rosier, do you have anything to say to Murtagh?"

The man actually looked confused and after she had to gesture to the Centaur, and his arrow, the man fell in front of the Centaur and pled for his life. She looked at Murtagh's face and saw that the pleading had had no effect. She knew it wouldn't but she had at least hoped Rosier would feel some form of remorse for his actions.

The man must have realized this as well for he looked towards her desperately, again taking his gaze off the deadly arrow. It amazed her that Murtagh hadn't released it yet. She definitely would have finished this long ago but this wasn't her kill.

The man said, "I can help you. I know your seeking out purebloods. I can give you information. I can help you to get close to them." He was crawling towards her now but before he reached, she strode up to him and kicked him in the face, the toe of her shoe colliding with his nose. He recoiled and shielded his face, but she didn't care.

"This is exactly why you are scum! You would sell out your own kind to save your own skin. You would doom another to experience your own fate so you wouldn't go through it alone. You have someone replace you so you may go on living your life. You have no loyalty and live only for yourself. That just makes me sick!" Her foot flew out again and struck him in the stomach. She turned towards Murtagh, who still held the arrow. She wanted to scream, her fuse had been lit, but she would control herself. It would not bode well to scream at her new Centaur family member, though he had just sworn his loyalty to her. But loyalty or not, she turned to Murtagh, her voice moderated but cold, and said, "Kill him now."

The arrow was released and another red pool of blood painted one of her floors. This scene would definitely haunt her later.

* * *

"Hagrid! Hagrid!" Harry said, as they ran up to the man's cottage. Harry, Ron and Hermione had decided to visit Hagrid at Hogwarts today. They also may have had some questions for him but that was besides the point.

Standing among his garden, he waved the teenagers over. They held him around his knees as he enveloped all of them in one big hug. He led them inside his hut for tea and his new rock cakes. "I added a bi' o' nutmeg t'is time."

Avoiding the cakes, Hermione asked, "We wanted to ask you some questions about Lucille."

Hagrid jumped up looking around and shaking his hands out at her, "No, Hermione, you're not supposed to-" A strange look passed over Hagrid's face before he asked, "What were ye asking me, 'Ermione?"

Ron tapped Hermione's elbow. "Remember, Mum told us her name makes you forget."

Hermione cleared her throat. She had forgotten all about that. Even she thought it was an impressive piece of magic: a memory spell associated with a word that worked across distances. "We wanted to ask you if you found out anything about Her."

Now Hagrid's face looked worried. He crouched down low and said softly, "I was gon' ta bring it up at the meetin' this week but maybe you guys can take a crack at it.

I been talkin' to Firenze and he said there be'n some poaching of herds in the South last week. People wantin' their fur and meat. One of the herds was heavily attacked. The other herds were helpin' 'em out. And then suddenly they all disappeared. The other herds think they just moved on but Firenze thinks it 'as sum'thin to do wi' Her."

"Do you think She was behind the poaching?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Hagrid shook his head, "No. She would never kill any Centaur. But if She might'a taken in the rest of the herd. Firenze hasn't heard from any of them since the attack."

"So, She's recruiting magical creatures?" Ron asked.

"She takes them in. She's always loved taking care of animals, was one of my favourite students. Can't believe She would be recruiting 'em for anythin'"

"But it's possible, Hagrid. Think about it: She takes them in and then they help Her do what She's doing."

"But we got no proof, Harry. She moves under the radar."

"Then we will have to go under the radar too," Hermione said.

* * *

Lucille had lost her family, her mother and her father. Lucille had gained a family through the children at the orphanage. She was happy, despite the cruel matrons who ran the orphanage, but she still longed for a real family. A mother to sing in the kitchen and a father to read the newspaper at the table. It filled Lucille's wildest dreams and no matter how her friends or the matrons would try to shake it out of her, Lucille continued dreaming.

Then something unbelievable happened: Lucille was getting adopted. It was unheard of at St. Grundy's but Lucille was too excited to care. Her dream was coming true and she would finally have her family. Since the day Madame Thwaites had told her the news, Lucille couldn't stop talking about it to her friends. They were probably getting annoyed with her gabbing. Then she was summoned to Madame Thwaites office. Little 8-year-old Lucille packed her little bag and finally met her new foster parents.

Florean and Marissa Abbott, a pureblood couple who had no children of their own. They were very pretty, with wide pretty smiles, pretty blue eyes and very pretty clothes. They both had pretty, long, flowing hair, the man's hair was dark and the woman's hair was fair. Lucille smiled her pretty smile back at them and they welcomed her into their arms, though her clothes were definitely not pretty. Lucille had found a pretty family.

On the outside. Once they had left Madame Thwaites' office, Marissa pried Lucille's grubby hands of her dress and led a confused little girl to her room in the elves quarters. Lucille then learnt the real reason she had left the orphange: The Abbotts were socialites who attended and hosted many benefits and galas for various charities and causes that they nor their attendees believed in. The couple had only adopted her for appearances, to gloat to their friends of how considerate and compassionate they were for taking pity on the down-trodden, less fortunate muggleborns.

Within the Abbott household, Lucille was a slave and she worked like the elves who did the cooking and cleaning. She learnt the plight of the elves, and during her days, the animals and creatures that lived just beyond the manor grounds. Lucille was neither seen nor heard within the house unless necessary. This was usually when Marissa wanted to parade her at different events. Lucille would get dolled up, her hair combed, the prettiest dress and shoes, and become the pretty girl she used to be, but only for a few hours. When the clock struck 12, she was back in rags and back in the elves quarters.

Lucille's dream for a family had turned into a nightmare. And that was only the beginning.

* * *

_Translations: _

_Diu armento - Long live the herd!_

_De armento in nobis - The herd lives in us._

_Ego sum apud te - I am with you_

_Sicut et ego vobiscum - As I with you_

_Nos unum sumus - We are one_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Secret meeting in Ron's room where we find out Hermione's plan. And Lucille will go and visit her family members at the different settlements so you guys can get an idea of just how big her 'army' is. She has more followers than this but I can't show them all. The visiting takes place a few days after the fealty ceremony. And the flashback for this chapter just shows how far her reach extended even in Hogwarts. RxR. FxF._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Friends in All Places**

"Do you think Firenze may be right? She's recruiting Centaurs?" Remus asked as he had jumped to the same conclusion as Harry, Ron and Hermione. Everyone was at the Order meeting tonight at the Burrow. Hagrid had just shared his news about the missing Centaur herd and Firenze's suspicions.

"No, the girl I once knew would never put Centaurs in some type of army," Hagrid said with a frown on his face.

"Hagrid, She is no longer the girl we knew." Dumbledore said serenly.

"We had completely ignored this possibility, being so hellbent on missing purebloods. Who else could She be recruiting?" Sirius asked, gesturing angrily.

"This matter will have to be looked into. Hagrid, if you would be so kind as to talk to any other Centaur herds, get information on any other strange events regarding other herds." Dumbledore asked, and Hagrid nodded in agreement.

"James and I tried to speak to the other purebloods. When we weren't being thrown on our asses, they were being very quiet about the whole thing. But one woman,"

"Who was flirting with Sirius and trying to get in his pants," James interjected.

Sirius shoved him and continued, "Apparently she found blood-traitors attractive. But yes, the woman mentioned that at a recent gala before Rosier's disappearance, he was acting very strange. He kept looking over his shoulder and mumbling about feeling watched. Purebloods like to gossip but no one likes to get involved, so they away after that."

Lily hmmed and then said, "So we know that Her victims at least know something's going to happen before She strikes."

"But Rosier's always been known be a bit paranoid. All that money made him think someone wanted to off him every other day. He didn't get out very much." Sirius countered.

"There have been strange things happening on the coast of France though we're not sure if it's related to Her. Muggles have noticing the fish behaving strangely. They're jumping out of the water and right into their fishing boats. Now, they don't mind, makes them easier to catch, but some the muggle scientists are getting suspicious," Frank reported. He and Alice had been sent out of the country for any unexplainable phenomenon.

"Speak to any of the muggle fishermen. We may need to investigate that further." Dumbledore said. Remus made a note of the decision on his parchment and Frank and Alice accepted their assignment. "Any strange happenings to the East?" Dumbledore asked.

"Nothing to report of in Germany. Everything seems fine. We pop into random cities but no whispers among the muggles. We'll stay there for the next few days but then we may move on to Belgium and Austria." Marlene said.

Dumbledore nodded then said, "Alright then. In England, there have been no more suspicious activity. No more disappearances but if we make a prediction from the trend of those that have happened, the next one will happen within the next month. Until then, we will have all the purebloods under surveillance. We also can't let Her know we are onto Her. We are dismissed. The next meeting will be in two weeks time at James' home."

The party separated and the three teens ran up into Ron's room.

"So, not that I'm agreeing or anything, but what's this big plan of yours?" Ron asked.

"Well I haven't fully finished thinking it out. I only have the beginning: somehow we have to get into Her organization," Hermione said while biting her lip.

"Ok then." Harry nodded. "So, how do we do that?"

"That's the part I haven't thought of yet," Hermione said.

Ron threw his hands into the hair, "Hermione, that's not a plan. I thought you had gotten further than that."

Hermione shouted, "You do better then, Ronald."

"Hey, what's all this now?" a voice from outside the door said. Three red-heads spilled into the room. The twins jumped onto Ron who was lying in bed, effectively crushing him under their combined weight. Ginny and Hermione just giggled while Ginny took a seat beside Harry on the floor.

"Hermione just had the beginnings of a beautiful yet deadly plan," Harry said as if it was the most normal thing.

"Plan to do what?" George asked, as he and his twin both ignored their flailing brother beneath them.

"We really need to stop Her, and we don't have much information to go off of. Which is why I was suggesting that we need to get inside somehow," Hermione answered.

"Either you're a pureblood She wants to kidnap or a muggleborn or animal She wants to recruit. I don't know if She had any friends," Fred offered. Ron had finally freed himself from under his brothers and was now sitting between them on his bed.

"Well if it's a pureblood, then it might be a suicide mission. None of the kidnapped purebloods ever come back. If it's a halfblood or muggleborn wizard or creature, if what Hagrid and Firenze think, they don't come back either, but at least She won't kill them," Hermione pondered out loud. "But we still have to do something."

"Muggleborn seems safest, less death involved, but we don't even know the first thing about getting to Her. And it can't be any of us. What if She knows we're tied to the Order? She'd probably get rid of us before we even got that far," Ginny said.

"We need to probably get some outside help," Hermione pondered. They all began to hash out a plan. She had to be stopped soon.

* * *

Patrick followed close behind as she walked through the forest to the back of the organization. It was early morning, far earlier than when the fireflies woke up, but she had to make sure Murtagh and his herd were settled in. She lifted her rubber-clad feet over a large root in her path and pushed through the thick evergreens. The air in the forest was damp and earthy, the smell of the evergreens filling her nostrils as she took a deep breath. Her mind was clear and she was happy to be out of the main building.

There was heavy thudding and shouting coming from her right and she ran through the trees towards the sound, expertly dodging and hurdling the obstacles in her path. Patrick would catch up afterwards at his own pace. She stopped when she reached a small clearing and she listened closely. The air was still and then she jumped quickly to the right, avoiding the arrow that had been aimed at her head. Another was fired but she waved her hand and it froze inches before her forehead. "_Discedant_!" she shouted. Around her, centaurs walked into the clearing, two dropping from their perch high in the trees, and knelt on their front hooves before her. "Murtagh!"

A frenzied Centaur ran into the clearing and stopped just a foot before her, "Madam, I'm sorry for my herd's behaviour. They are still wary from the attacks."

She held out a hand towards Murtagh, "Do not worry. I should not have come so unannounced and barged through like a madwoman. I guess these have not met me yet. _Surgo_!" The Centaurs surrounding her rose from their crouching positions. Murtagh spoke to them quickly and they all departed from the clearing.

"How are you and your herd adapting, Murtagh?" she asked as they walked into the high bushes around the clearing. He led her down a thread-beaten path and she looked around at the Centaurs moving through the forest. She saw small families who had made their own spaces among the trees, and other Centaurs which were making and maintaining their bows and spears. She had placed this settlement near a river that ran through the compound and she saw other Centaurs casting nets.

"It is more than enough, Madam. In the forest we once lived, food was scarce as we often shared and fought with other rival herds for sustenance. Here, food is in abundance and now we don't have to worry about being attacked. Our remaining foals can live and grow up in peace," Murtagh said and she could see the gratitude in his eyes.

She stopped for a moment and crouched before him, her right arm across her chest. "I do what I can for my family."

They walked further into the trees and she met Murtagh's family, his wife Saphire and his two foals Perseus and Arya. He then took her around the whole settlement where she met more of his herd and watched as they went about their morning activities. The sky was now painted in oranges and purples as they eventually ended back up at the clearing where Patrick was waiting for her.

He laughed when she gave him a strange look. "I figured you'd be taking your time and I didn't want to interrupt, Madam."

She smiled at her counsellor and then turned to Murtagh, "I am glad to see you are doing fine. I'll be in touch and if there are any issues," she walked a bit away out of the clearing, Murtagh and Patrick following behind before they reached a tree. A very ordinary tree. Murtagh looked at it in confusion. "I mentioned this when we were signing those documents, if you remember. Ophelia!" she called out. A portrait suddenly appeared before them, hung on the tree. It depicted a beautiful Centaur with long, flowing white hair and blue eyes like the night sky. "Madam," Ophelia said with a slight bow.

"Ophelia, Murtagh. Murtagh, Ophelia. Murtagh, this is how I keep in touch with the settlements. She has a counterpart within the main building so anything you tell her here, she can relay to me. For regular occasions, she can only be seen and spoken to by you. In emergencies, anyone in danger can speak to her. She can also summon you if I need you." She turned back to Ophelia, "You know the drill."

She bid Murtagh goodbye once more and she and Patrick left the clearing. "Now, we will visit Sector M1 before their morning feeding. Filian had mentioned having a surge in the water currents coming from the Seine." The pair then apparated from the forest.

* * *

They appeared on the bank of a lake she had found a few miles from Paris. The water was calm this early in the morning. None of the muggles would come out until much later but they didn't her concern right now. She and Patrick stripped down to their wet suits before Patrick gave her the gillyweed in his pocket. They waited a few seconds before they dove under the reflective surface of the water. After acclimatizing to the cold lake water, the two swam forward to the first Merpeople settlement.

It was a large reef decorated with various shells and pieces of glass taken from the lake bottom. Young mer-boys and mer-girls waved to her and Patrick as they swam among the homes. Mrs Ryser swam out to meet her, sharing her news about her daughter's engagement to Jolen Glib. After a few exciting minutes and her promising to attend their engagement party, she and Patrick swam on to Filian's home.

They pushed through the dense growth of weeds which acted as Filian's front door. His home was bigger than the other merpeople's home. She called his name out in Mermish before he appeared in the foyer. His large black eyes focused on her and he took her hands in his long green fingers. On his head was a woven crown of seaweed embedded with rectangular pieces of shell. He wore a woven sash across his long torso, it too mimicking the pieces of shell which displayed his rank to all who came to see. He smiled at her, showing his large pointed teeth, before pulling her and Patrick further into his home.

He led them into his study and then moved behind his desk. His long tailed swished lazily below him, keeping him in place and she and Patrick swam around the edges of the study. Large tomes and scrolls filled the carved walls of his home. She swam up and pulled out a large book which told the heritage of Filian. Filian was a prince of this Mercommunity, second in line for the throne behind his father, Pliant, and his grandmother, Julissa. She would go visit her after this meeting.

She had been become well versed in Mermish, as well as the other languages of her family. 'Filian, how have things been since the nematode infestation?' A few months ago, there had been a surge of the creatures and they began to eat all their crops. She had come to help them and after a few days, they were finally driven away. She had provided them with food until they were able to sustain themselves once more.

'They have been well. Has Tamar told you of her daughter's engagement?' he asked.

She smiled at him, 'She's over the moon. Jolen is a nice boy so I think it's a good match.' she said, moving closer to Filian.

Filian had reached into his desk and pulled out a small piece of parchment. All parchment here was charmed to be impervious to water, leaving them feeling crisp and dry to the touch though she was hundred's of feet below the lake's surface.

'That's the list of issues some of the people have submitted. Minor issues. Tuna randomly swimming through the community. Sides of homes breaking off. It may have something to do with the water currents but we are still looking into it.'

She nodded and handed the paper to Patrick. 'Please notify me when you've found out more. I'll be going to visit your grandmother now if there are no other matters.'

Filian dismissed them, 'Send her my love.'

She and Patrick broke the surface of the lake. They had just left Queen Julissa, who had tried keep them down their for lunch but there were still things to be done. She still had one more set of settlements to visit today. She heard splashing and looked towards the muggles splashing in the shallow water. To be young and free and not worry about magic and its horrors. To just enjoy a day at the lake would be fun.

She sighed as they dried themselves and replaced their outer clothes. Patrick gave her a comforting look and a small hug before they disappeared once more.

* * *

They appeared in another forest, but this one was located high in the mountains in the North of Spain. There were loud thundering footsteps around her and she shouted "Magoyan!" She and Patrick climbed up a nearby tree and stood out on one of the highest limbs. They were now at eye-level with the Giants who lumbered around the settlement. Some carried large trees on their shoulders, while others carried many dead deer that lived in this forest and the surrounding farms. She frowned and shouted out Magoyan's name once more.

Footsteps shook the ground below them before one of the giants stopped before them. He was easily more than 20 feet tall and he held out his palm for the two humans to sit in, but she remained standing on the limb, holding Patrick back. She gave Magoyan a hard stare and fell to his knees before her so she was now staring down at her from the limb.

"Madam, I am sorry. I did not expect you so early." Magoyan said with his head down in his native tongue.

"What did I tell you about killing so many deer, Magoyan?" She said coldly, continuing their conversation in Giant.

Magoyan said nothing but he seemed to sink further into the ground. She leapt from the tree and landed on the top of Magoyan's head. "The more deer you kill, the harder it is to keep you hidden from the muggles. This is exactly why you had to come to me in the first place. The muggles had noticed their dwindling herds and started to cut down the forest. I've already relocated you once since then."

She slammed her heel onto Magoyan's head and he let out a loud bellow and swayed beneath her feet but she maintained her balance. "I have already told you to limit yourselves. I give your own farms, I let you rear your own animals, but I know you got those deer from the muggle farms and I don't want them to get suspicious again."

"Yes, Madam." Magoyan said, while clutching the sides of his head.

She leapt off his head and onto his shoulder. "Please, grab Patrick and call the other leaders from the other Sector G's into the main clearing. I need to speak to all of you on this matter."

Magoyan took her and Patrick and walked through Sector G1. As they moved, all the giants around bowed low, their current activities forgotten. They could feel her anger radiating from her stature and cold stare, different from the kindness they were used to during her visits. Magoyan spoke to them harshly, sending them to call the other giant leaders as they made their way to the main clearing.

This clearing didn't look much different from any other clearing, except that it was much larger able to hold many giants at once. Currently it held all 4 of the Sector G leaders, including Magoyan beneath her. She told him to stand in front of the group. "I came here with lighter matters to discuss but something has been brought to my attention as soon as I got here. I put Magoyan in charge of the rest of you, and if this is happening within his own sector, then I am to assume it is happening in all. You have been taking deer from muggle farms. You must refrain and desist immediately until further notice and live within your own means, while I replenish their numbers so the muggles do not notice. You are all to be confined within your own sectors."

She slammed her heel into Magoyan's head again, and this time all the sector leaders clutched their heads in pain. "Do I make myself clear?" she asked.

"Yes, Madam," they all said and crouched low.

She then held council as they all voiced about other issues. Since she had already addressed the meal issue, she saw it fit punishment to ration any further aid to their food supplies. But there was something troubling they had to say.

"Purebloods have been spotted in the forest. We think they're looking for something but we are not sure. The wards and protection you put up hide us from their eyes but it seems strange that they always come back in the same place," Tromgot, the Sector G4 leader said.

"Interesting. Take me to where you see them." She ordered. She dismissed the others as Magoyan and Tromgot led the way. She jumped from Magoyan's head to the forest floor and cast many spells around her. "You're right. They're here for something. I'll send other guards to monitor this area. Leave them to me for now."

Magoyan took them to his home and she walked up to the portrait which hung here. It was of a large, old Giant sitting on the bank of a small brook. He waved at her from his portrait, "Madam, I have a message for you from the main building. Matthew requests your presence and he brings good news."

She smiled for the first time since she had come to Sector G1. "I'll be there soon. But I wanted to tell you of what transpired here." She relayed some information to the portrait before she bade Magoyan farewell and disapparated to the headquarters.

* * *

"Matthew!" she screamed as she ran to the tall man who was standing in the middle of her quarters.

"Lu!" he said back, before kissing her cheek.

Matthew was the only bright light in her life. He was the first person to join her cause and believe whole heartedly in what she was doing. He was the only one who called her Lu. Patrick had gotten used to the 'Madam' but Matthew couldn't, and her name was now taboo'd. He was her best friend, her most trusted advisor and she loved him more than life itself.

Patrick came up behind her and Matthew hugged the man himself. "Pat, long time no see. Taking care of our little friend?" he asked with a grin.

"I am not little," she pouted, folding her arms over her chest as the two men just laughed. It was just like Hogwarts all over again, though Matthew had known her since the orphanage.

"What news did you bring?" Patrick asked as they walked over to her dining table. She went into the kitchen and pulled out a tray of cookies she had made last night when she couldn't sleep. Rosier's blood on her ballroom floor had visited her dreams once more.

She offered the cookies to Matthew and Patrick, who each took one as they sat around the table. "I made it all the way to Australia and I convinced a small werewolf pack there to meet with us. They've been cornered to small area of the mountains and fear they might be wiped out soon."

"I see. Patrick and Thomas can get started on preparations tomorrow. How long will you be staying here until you go?" she asked.

Matthew was part of her international relations team and was currently stationed in Australia. He would travel to different countries to seek minority groups in need of aid or protection, and he would watch out for any suspicious pureblood activity.

"Well, I'll be helping you with this Australia business for the next few days. Have to get everything perfect. Werewolves are known for their lack of trust. Don't want to make the wrong move. But how about today, we just go out like we used to. Just the three of us. We could head out to muggle London."

She thought to herself. It would be nice to go out. She had been so busy lately, she hadn't given herself any time, unless you count her times in the garden. She smiled at him and Patrick, "That sounds like a plan."

* * *

Lucille wasn't the most beautiful girl. Lucille wasn't the smartest. Lucille wasn't the most powerful. Lucille was a regular muggleborn Hufflepuff. But her kind, innocent nature made her a prime target for the bullying from the Slytherin population. However, she held a different kind of power: the power of loyalty and friendship, friendships which were deep and lasted lifetimes. She didn't realize just how strong her power was until later, when she was able to call on these friends in the future. Friends help friends whenever they can, something the Slytherins didn't understand.

It had been a Hogsmeade weekend and third-year Lucille had separated from her friends to visit Honeydukes on her own. She had wanted to treat her friends to a couple chocolate frogs, and stock up on her own personal favourite, Sugar Quills. She had just paid for an armful of candy and was exiting the store when three Slytherins stood in her path, sneering down at her. These weren't the same as the ones near the forest in her first year, but these had been just as cruel and nasty to her.

"Oh look at the little mudblood Puff," the tall one in the front said. "Bought me a little something did you?" He reached out for her candy bag and she held it close her body and narrowed her eyes.

She had to tilt her head up to look at the boy. "These aren't yours. Get lost."

He frowned at her. He had expected her to be scared and just give him what he wanted. She usually shied away from him and his friends. His friend said, "Why do you want her bag, Charles? She's probably contaminated them already."

Lucille held her head high, trying to look more confident than she felt, though her eyes darted around. No one seemed to notice the taller boys surrounding her. She would have to make a run for it and hope they wouldn't follow her.

She stepped to the side, intending to duck under the boy when he shoved her back. "Where do you think you're going, mudblood? Since I can't have your chocolate, then it won't matter if I do this." He then snatched the bag from her hands, threw it on the floor and stomped on it repeatedly. His friends laughed around him as she crouched on the floor, trying to salvage any of her purchases. She had used most of her spending money on these chocolates.

"She's going to eat it of the floor. Charles, hold your boot out. Maybe she'll lick it off." his friend said again.

The tall boy held his boot out and she flinched thinking he was going to kick her. She wouldn't put it past him.

"What are you doing?" a tall Ravenclaw boy walked over to them and shoved the boys back away from her.

The tall one glared at the Ravenclaw boy, "This does not concern you, William."

"It does when you're picking on my little friend," William said. Then he looked down at Lucille. "Are you alright, Lucille?"

Lucille was about to answer but a look from the tall Slytherin shut her up. William noticed the look from the boy and stepped closer to him. "If I-"

"Is someone bothering Lucy?" a group of fifth-year girls came up to the group now, blocking off the Slytherins on the other side.

"Lucille, are you alright?" Mr Jeoffrey from the shop nearby came over after witnessing the crowd outside his store.

"Lu!" there were shouts from afar and Lucille could see Matthew and Patrick running towards her.

The Slytherins were now surrounded by a circle of angry faces. The argument had attracted a lot of onlookers. The girls had crouched low and helped Lucille back on her feet. One was dabbing her face with a hankerchief and Lucille was a bit confused and ashamed; she didn't even notice she had been crying. William was still cursing the Slytherin named Charles, while Matthew and Patrick had trapped his friends.

"Hallo! Hallo! What is going on here?" Mr Honeyduke said, waving his hands above the crowd to get their attention. He was finally able to get to his shop door. He was stuck attending to customers and there was a large crowd of persons trying to get out but were blocked by the commotion. He took in the sight before him and easily found the victim and the perpetrators.

"Lucille, what happened here?" My Honeyduke asked kindly, pulling her to stand before him.

Lucille finally found her voice, feeling stronger now that the Slytherins couldn't do anything with so many witnesses. "They stomped on my candybag, Mr Honeyduke." She pointed to the flattened remains of her chocolate.

Mr Honeyduke frowned and then turned to the boys. Their faces paled under his stare but they didn't look the bit perturbed by Lucille's testimony. Mr Honeyduke shouted, "You three are banned from my store. Remove yourself from the entrance."

The crowd parted and jeered the Slytherins as they left with their heads held high. The one named Charles turned back and gave Lucille a pointed look before following his friends. Matthew and Patrick crowded around her, each putting a hand on one of her shoulders protectively. William stood in front of her. "I'm sorry about your candy, Lucille."

"It's not your fault, William," she smiled up at him. The other onlookers all walked forward and offered their own condolences and Lucille accepted each modestly. "Let me buy you some sweets," William said, digging through his pockets. "No let me!" "I'll get you some Bertie Bott's Beans" "Lucille, do you like Sugar Quills." others shouted around her as they all pushed into the candy shop.

Lucille soon walked out of Honeydukes with three bags full of candy. All her friends and those in the crowd had pitched in a bought her candy of all kinds, even Mr Jeoffrey, and Mr Honeydukes had given her the right choose as much as she wanted. But she only took what was necessary, even when he tried to get her to take more.

She walked back to the castle with Matthew and Patrick, digging through her bags and handing each a chocolate frog. They wanted to refuse but she said, "I went Honeydukes for you guys. So, only fair you get some of my spoils, and now I have enough for the whole common room."

They smiled at her, accepted the chocolate, and threw an arm around her shoulders, "You're too sweet, you know that Lu?" Matthew said while biting into his frog.

"So I've been told," she replied as she bit into her own.

* * *

_A/N: I don't want to make it seem like all Slytherins are mean and all Slytherins are purebloods. But in Lucille's time, she's six years older than Lily and the Marauders, I think muggleborn prejudice would be very rampant, and most Slytherins would be pureblood._


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: So Lucille is going to go out with Matthew and Patrick to muggle London. And now the two story arcs will meet: Lucille will meet Hermione in muggle London. And the flashback for this chapter, I talk a lot about how important a family is to Lucille, so why doesn't she have one for her own? Marry, settle down, have kids, send them to Hogwarts to be friends with the trio or even Bill, Charlie and Tonks, and just not be a dark Lady or kill purebloods? Now we'll see. RxR. FxF._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

**Chapter 6 - One that was Lost Along the Way**

"Are you sure I look okay, Matthew?" she asked, smoothing out the front of her light blue dress. She stood in the front of her bedroom mirror taking in her appearance.

"Since when do you care about your appearance, Lu?" Matthew said with a laugh. "Not that you're not pretty," he added when she shot him a heart-stopping glare.

"You're fine, Madam," Patrick said, walking up behind her and slinging an arm around her shoulders. She looked at their image in the mirror and at Matthew at her kitchen table. They were both wearing muggle jeans, Patrick in a green button-up and Matthew in red. Thirty years with these two guys, Matthew longer, and after every twist and turn they've gone through together, she counted herself blessed for such amazing friends.

She tightened the long braid her hair was in, let it drop to her waist and then said, "Ready, boys."

* * *

Muggle London was alive, like a buzzing beehive teeming with eager excited drones. They poured out of all the stores and almost bumped into her twice but she was having too good of a time to care. She, Matthew and Patrick each carried at least one bag on their shoulders and she was currently eating a soft pretzel.

Matthew took a long draw from his iced tea, "I'm just saying if you're going to roam around naked through the countryside, then at least do it where no one can see. Do you know how many muggles I had to obliviate for just seeing ogre junk?"

Patrick said, "You shouldn't talk about them that way. They're just existing and normally they do stay out of the way of the muggles. It's just that there are a few muggles who choose to walk deeper into the woods."

Matthew tutted, "The numbers are alarming, Pat. I don't think it's just random muggles. I think the ogres like to do it just to cause trouble."

They began to bicker but she quickly put a stop it, tugging on their elbows. She pointed to a bookstore a few feet away. "Let's stop in there. I need to get a few books."

They ran inside the packed little bookstore and walked through the many aisles. Horror. Romance. Adventure. She was feeling adventurous. She reached up and her hand bumped into another. The two hands recoiled and she looked to her right.

She was a teen, about 16, with wild brown curls and looking slightly flustered. Her hands were already filled with an array of books. It was nice to see teens still interested in reading. "I'm so sorry, Ma'am. You can have it," she said. So polite too.

She waved her hand dismissively. She reached up and took down two copies. "Here's one for each of us," she said smiling at the young girl warmly.

The girl returned her smile and said, "I love this author. I have _Journey Through the Galaxy_ and _Two Moons of Mars_, two of his more recent books."

She laughed, "Can't say I know any of his work. I just took the title and cover looked interesting. Haven't even read the blurb yet."

"You must read them," the girl said excitedly, her hair bouncing. She liked this girl very much. She was sweet, kind, and obviously very smart, very passionate and very vocal about her love of books

The girl looked to her wrist. "Oh I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be meeting my friends in about five minutes, and with the length of that line, I might not even make it now." The girl looked down at her armful of books with a frown, possibly thinking of putting them all back on the shelves.

She felt for the poor girl. "Nonsense. Give me them and I'll get through the line for you." Before the girl could say anything, she reached out and took the books from her hands and walked right up to the counter. The other customers paid her no mind, their gazes averted elsewhere as she stood before the cashier.

"Hello, how may I help you?" the man at the counter said.

"I'd like to purchase these books, please, if you don't mind," she said warmly to the cashier. He smiled back at her before checking out her books.

The girl was looking around strangely, looking at the people waiting in line patiently, and she knew she had to finish this transaction quickly before the muggle said anything.

Then the cashier said, "Your total is £87." That brought the girl's attention as she quickly dug through her purse for the money. The girl looked up from her bag to see her purchases already bagged and paid for. "I- I don't understand," she said, her eyes wide as she took the bag from the older woman.

"Think nothing of it. Always nice to find an avid reader like myself." she said. She bid the girl goodbye, took her own purchases and left to find Matthew and Patrick.

* * *

**_That was strange._** Hermione walked from the bookstore lost in thought. She swung the bag at her side, its weight causing it to bump into the back of her knees. That nice woman just decided to buy her all those books. She seemed to just exude kindness, her smile contagious and her eyes warm. It was so weird though. Normally, the muggles would be upset if another person cut them in the line, but no one even noticed. Maybe she had that effect on them as well, but she hadn't even said a word to them.

"Well, what do we have here?" a sleazy voice said behind her.

Hermione gasped but before she could grab her wand, a knife was pressed up against her throat and she was being dragged backwards. She swallowed thickly, inching her hand towards her back pocket. But the man noticed and pulled both of them behind her back. Her heavy bag of books spilled out onto the pavement. "Can't have you reaching for any back there, missy. Unless, there's something else you had in mind."

Hermione was scared. She was effectively defenceless. She had somehow walked pass a deserted alley without noticing. She wanted to scream but the knife was heavy against her throat. She whimpered, tears threatening to spill. "Please just let me go," she begged, "I'll give you my wallet."

There was a sick chuckle in her ear as the man leaned in, "While that's nice and all, I had something else in mind."

He continued to drag her further into the alley, further away from anyone who could help her. She struggled against him, dragging her feet into the ground and kicking but he tightened his hold on her. She started to cry, heart-wrenching sobs, pleading with the man to simply let her go. She wouldn't tell anyone.

"I can't take your bawling any longer!" There was blow to the back of her head and then she saw darkness.

* * *

Hermione came to, not knowing how long she had been out, but her head was pounding. It took awhile for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but then she realized she was laying against a cold stone wall. There was very little light and the air felt stale and damp. There was something heavy on her wrists and she peeked over her shoulder to see her hands were handcuffed. She started to scream out.

"Oh you're awake girl," the man said again as he came into view. He knelt by her and ran a long finger against her smooth cheek. She screamed again and the man slapped her across the face.

"Shut up, girl. I won't do anything to you. You see, I sell girls to the highest bidder and I know that you're one of them. I saw that stick in her pocket. There are certain men that would pay top dollar for someone like you and one of them is here to view the merchandise." He picked her up by her hair and led her out of the room.

She now stood before a tall, older gentleman, before her kidnapper pushed her to her knees. The gentleman was smartly dressed resting slightly on a cane. He smirked down at her and said, "Yes, she's a fine specimen, John. She'll be a fine addition to my collection of little mudbloods. I killed one of them the other day you see. Need a replacement."

"No problem, Mr Thwaites," the creepy man said on her right.

Hermione could do nothing. She would be sold to this god awful pureblood. She would be tortured, humiliated, possibly raped and/or killed. Harry and Ron must have noticed she didn't show but they had no idea where she was. She was alone. She-

Boom! There was an explosion and the men jumped out of the way, leaving Hermione to be hit by the flying debris. She fell to the floor, blood pooling around her head.

* * *

She had found Matthew and Patrick and now they were strolling down the street once more. They stopped into clothing stores, variety stores, a small fruit store and a pet store where she almost bought all the animals before Patrick asked her where she would put them. Instead they just played with the bunnies.

They were walking back to where Matthew had parked their car, she always loved driving in a car when they went to muggle London, when she felt something. Something was... off. Someone was in danger. The feeling was there, pulsing but slowly dying.

"Patrick, Matthew, someone's in trouble nearby," she said, with her hand to her temple.

"Something serious?" Patrick asked, not questioning how she knew that. It was unexplainable, but she just knew these types on things, even at Hogwarts. She was very empathetic.

"I think it's someone I know. They were scared, very scared and then they're knocked out right now. They're still in danger." She had a worried look on her face, which Matthew and Patrick soon adopted. If she was still worried, then something was happening.

"Where?" Matthew said, grabbing her elbow and spinning her in a slow circle.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The feelings were coming from...

"That way," she said, pointing about a block down the street. They walked slowly as she mentally felt around until they stopped by the mouth of a deserted alley. "Somewhere down there." They continued on the path cautiously. Matthew and Patrick had their wands drawn as she walked forward, her eyes still shut.

Then she heard it inside her head... _I sell girls_... _highest bidder_... _collection of mudbloods_. She looked to the right at a blank wall, a barred door just a few feet away. She felt the fear coming off the scared girl inside, her cries echoing through her head. She had to act fast.

Her hand flew out towards the wall and it exploded at her will, large chunks flying into the room beyond. She, Matthew and Patrick jumped through the opening. The first thing she saw was the girl, the girl from the bookstore! She was surrounded by large pieces of stone and there was blood, so much blood. Her heart went out to the girl, feeling both emotional and physical pain. She had hurt the girl in her effort to save her.

She cared not for the other people in the room. In the back of her mind, she registered that Matthew and Patrick were taking care of things. She knew they would manage. But now she was focused on the girl. Her eyes were closed and her mouth hanging open. She pulled the restraints on the girl's hands and cradled her head in her lap. The gash on the back of her head oozing fresh blood stained the bottom of her dress but she didn't care.

She looked up around her and as she expected, Matthew and Patrick had subdued the men. They were both stunned and bound by thick ropes. One she didn't recognize. Probably a muggle, a very deplorable, seedy muggle. She would have to investigate his history and free those other girls. But the other man.

"Thwaites," she sneered. Another pureblood on her list, son of Mrs Thwaites from the orphanage. Maybe there was something good to be gained from all of this.

The blood was dampening her leg, drawing her back to the girl on her lap. "We have to go," she said hurriedly, looking up at her friends with wide eyes. "Bring those two with us. I have further plans for them. Grab the things we got today. Let's go."

She didn't wait for them. She apparated on the spot, taking the unconscious girl with her.

* * *

"Will she be alright?" she asked Hilary while nervously wringing her hands. Her hair had fallen free from the braid sometime ago and strands were pouring into her face but she didn't care. The girl she had saved was lying in the bed between the two woman, her eyes still closed but a large bandage around her head.

The mediwitch looked at the unconscious girl for a moment before saying, "She lost some blood so I'll have to give her something for that, but otherwise, she will be fine."

The doors to the infirmary opened and Matthew and Patrick walked in. She turned to look at them, "How are my newest guests?"

Patrick gave her a grim smile, "They are currently awaiting questioning, Madam. We have already garnered some information from the muggle's unscrupulous endeavours, so Thomas and Grant have been assigned to handle the details. They will have a plan drafted by morning, after you have done the interrogations."

"Splendid," she said. "What about Mr Thwaites?"

Matthew chuckled, "Well, he put up quite a fight that one. The muggle was easy to get to, sang like a canary once he realized he was in deep trouble, but those purebloods. Pure 'til the very end. Went in kicking and screaming, used the most dignified curses and insults before Johnson got fed up and just knocked him out. He will be revived when you're done with the muggle."

Now her smile was sickly sweet, "Patrick, make the necessary preparations for that interrogation. It seems we'll have to loosen this one's tongue a bit."

"Yes, Madam," Patrick said and the two left her and Hilary in the infirmary. She turned back to Hilary, "Please notify me when she is well enough. I need to speak to her."

"Yes, Madam," the mediwitch said before running to her office for the potion.

She had to find out what had happened to the girl. She was a witch though she didn't know at the time. She wasn't sure how she hadn't known. She seemed fine when she left the bookstore to meet her friends and then she was kidnapped.

She looked back down at the girl, running a hand over her hair, her fingers almost being trapped by the strong curls. She could have been a daughter, what she always wanted her daughter to be like: bright and smiling, energetic, smart and talented. But sometimes we don't get what we want and as she had learnt in life, purebloods always made sure of that.

* * *

Hermione woke up for the second time with a pounding headache. The man, the buyer. She shot up and realized she was now lying in a bed. Did the man really buy her? She looked around and saw other empty beds in this pale yellow room, each outfitted in matching pale yellow and white sheets. There was a warm light coming through the window near her bed and a pitcher of water.

She was about to reach for the pitcher when the white double doors at the end of the room opened. A kind old woman walked up the aisles between the bed and stopped by Hermione's side. She began running her hands along her, tugging, pulling and prodding while asking Hermione how she was feeling.

Hermione could hardly keep up with the sight. Where was she? Would that horrible man put her in such a nice place with a doting mediwitch? "My head just hurts," Hermione said timidly.

The woman tutted before running her hands on the bandage that Hermione just noticed was wrapped around her head. "Yes, it would. I need to change the dressing and give you a pain-relieving potion. Can you stand dear?"

Hermione wiggled her fingers and toes and felt no pain other than soreness from lying in bed. "I think so."

"Alright good. Just let me change the bandage and the potion and then I'll lead you to Madam. She will want to see you," the woman said before walking back towards the double doors.

Madam? Now Hermione was scared. In the muggle world, a madam was in charge of the girls in a whorehouse. She was in a whorehouse.

She had to get out of here. Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed and placed her feet on the cool tile. She was about to make a run for it when the mediwitch came back with a man in tow.

"Now, dear. I know you're eager but you have to let me do this first and then Patrick will take you to see her," she said, her hands already unwrapping Hermione's bandage.

Now Hermione was being led through a couple long hallways with Patrick at her side. There were doors along the way, Hermione wondered what was behind each but the only one she could see through was a large meeting room. She was in some type of business place? She wanted to ask Patrick where they were going but he was looking forward, not paying her much attention but she still knew he was watching her every move.

They stopped outside a dark brown door and Patrick led them inside. There was a woman there with long flowing brown hair that fell below her waist. She was currently in a dark green blouse, long brown pants and knee-high thick brown rubber boots, tending to the many potted plants that were placed around the room.

"Madam," Patrick announced before letting Hermione walk before him. "I have brought the girl."

The woman turned towards her and Hermione's mouth opened in surprise. It was the woman from the bookstore, the one who had paid for her books, the one with the warm smile and the kind heart. "It's you," Hermione managed to gasp out.

The woman smiled and walked towards Hermione extending a slightly soiled hand. Hermione locked eyes with woman and felt the same warm feeling she had had before with this woman. Hermione took the woman's hand and despite being confused, surprised and scared, she felt somewhat safe with this woman. Which was strange as Hermione didn't even know who she was.

"Yes, I saved you. Now come and sit. We have much to discuss," the woman said before pulling her into a chair near the large window lighting the room.

* * *

Lucille was in the kitchen standing over a pot of boiling water, an apron over her enlarged belly. The rice was cooked, the chicken in the oven and now she was adding pasta noodles to the pot on the stove. She looked towards the small clock that hung on the wall above the dining table: 5:26. Her fiancé would be home at 6 and he said he had some wonderful news. She smiled to herself. Maybe he finally got the promotion. New manager of international relations. She had her own news: Jaime kicked for the first time today, waking her up from her mid-afternoon nap. Hopefully she'd kick again for daddy.

Lucille looked up and out the window above the stove. There against the dying orange sky, she saw three flying shapes. Very strange looking birds? The black shapes seemed to be getting bigger and closer. Then one screamed and a bright blue light came directly at her. She ran out of the kitchen, pots and meals forgotten as the kitchen window shattered behind her, the house shaking from the force.

She had to get out of here, special dinner be damned. The house shook again as another spell hit its side. Lucille ran over to the fireplace, ready to grab the floopowder on top of the mantle when the back door was blown into smithereens.

"We have finally found you," the first man said coming closer to Lucille. Lucille stepped back, reaching behind her blindly for the little jar of green powder. She had to get out. She had to protect her unborn child.

The second man came in behind him and fired a spell at the fireplace. Lucille ran out of the way but the damage was done, she would be unable to floo out.

She pulled out her wand and levelled it at the men, alternating between the two. The odds were against her, and there was one right outside the room. There was no way she would win. It would be better for her to run instead of fight. She would have to apparate.

A spell hit her chest and threw her into the wall, the edge of a picture frame jabbing into her back as she and it fell to the floor. She lay in a heap against the wall, the wind knocked out of her chest. There was a painful twinge in her stomach and she held a hand over the pain. Something was wrong. She took deep breaths, trying to find the energy to get up.

"You're not going anywhere," he said. The two came to stand over her. The man who spoke reached down and pulled her up to her feet by her neck. His meaty fingers bore into her throat painfully and Lucille clawed at his hands desperately.

"We've been looking for you ever since we found out what you did. No one would have thought you, a little mudblood, would or could do something like that, but one should never underestimate the things filth like you are capable of doing." The man gestured to his counterparts and they fired many spells at her while he held her in place: a stinging hex, a burning spell, a needling charm and their favourite, the Cruciatus.

Her vision was growing dark. Lucille wanted to pass out from the pain. She wanted to die. Her only regret would be leaving her husband behind to mourn but he was strong. He would understand. And she would look out for him from the afterlife as well as his guardian angel.

The man fell before her and she fell in a painful heap near him. More spells were fired and the three men were downed. Warm hands wrapped around her and she wondered who had come to her aid.

"Lu! Lu!" the person screamed. Her husband.

"Matthew," she said softly. She threw her arms around him and sobbed, forgetting the men around them. He held her close, he too close to tears over just how close he was to losing his wife, his best friend, but he had to be strong for the two of them.

Rage filled Matthew and he left his distraught wife on the ground. Before she could say anything, he aimed his wand at the men and three green flashes each one. They would remain still forever.

"Matthew," she said hollowly. "Why?"

He came back over and whispered to her, "You shouldn't be the only burdened with such sins. Now there's blood on both our hands."

He picked her up bridal style and lifted from the ground. A pool of blood was revealed and more seeping from under her dress. There was another twinge, stronger than the others. Through gritted teeth, she said, "Jaime." They apparated immediately to St. Mungo's.

Nothing could be done.

There was too much damage, from the physical blow to the barrage of spell, not to mention the repeated use of the Cruciatus. Jaime was lost, dead in the womb. Her birth was induced and the couple welcomed their daughter to the world, her eyes unseeing and her heart still. There were no words as the couple sobbed, holding each other and their child, clutching at some semblance of wholeness but knowing that it would never be.

Then the healer delivered the finally blow: the damage was irreversible. Lucille would never be able to have another child. Her womb had too much scar tissue and could not be repaired, even by magic. Lucille's final dream for a family was taken from her forever.

The couple had moved to a more secluded location, this time under a Fidelius charm. For weeks after, Lucille locked herself away in her room. Throughout that time, Matthew tried to be there for his fiancé, physically, mentally and emotionally, even though she tried to shut him out.

Eventually, Lucille called off their engagement, claiming that she was now damaged goods. She couldn't give him the life they both wanted: big white house, a porch with a swing and three children. Matthew said he didn't need those things, he wished she believed differently. He loved this girl all his life, since they first met in that awful orphanage. They met back up at Hogwarts, he being a year ahead of her, but she was still the same sweet Lucille he had known. They started dating in his 6th year and he always hated that he didn't date her sooner. She was his light, she was his world, his Lu. He wanted her as his wife but he knew that when Lucille made up her mind, it was final. And he couldn't deny her her wish. He only wanted her to be happy.

Lucille never changed her mind and they never married. She had other plans, plans for another type of family. She shared her plan with Matthew. He never thought his Lucille would think of a plan like this but he knew her heart was in the right place and again, who was he to deny his Lu?

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_A/N: Based on the timeline I'm working with, the child would have been Fred and George's age (born 1978)._


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Teehee. **David-El** reviewed my story and gave it high praises. I'm so happy. I hope everyone else likes my story as well so far, and there is more to come._

_In this chapter, there is no Hermione. Instead, Lucille interrogates her two new captives and the flashback shows Lucille getting her Hogwarts letter. The link between the two scenes is weak but I guess if you squint, you'll see it._

_Rated for torture and gore, so if you don't like that, then skip to the flashback part._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

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**Chapter 7 - What Is and Isn't Fair**

She questioned the muggle first, which she knew would be much easier as Patrick said he was already giving information. She followed Patrick into the interrogation room, which looked more like a small breakroom for an office building. There was an untouched pot of coffee in the corner.

Upon her entry, the muggle who was inspecting the four beige walls turned to her. He looked very odd with his scarred, dirty skin and shabby clothes in the clean space. He ran up to her, causing Patrick to jump in front her but instead of attacking, he fell at her feet, almost crying to be let free.

She chuckled sheepishly and Patrick freed her from the man and sat him in one of the chairs. She then took a spot across the table with Patrick on her right.

"So Mr..." she began.

"Johnny. Now let me out of this place. I don't get you and your _powers_, but don't do anything to me. I've told you what I know. I've gave you people's names and addresses."

"How do I know those girls are actually where you say they are?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow at the man.

"Well I would have no idea what happens to them after, would I? All sales are final and confidential," the man replied with a smirk. She fixed him a glare, and he cleared his throat nervously, then repeated, "I told you all I know."

She smiled at him and Patrick proffered the sheet of paper with the information Thomas and Grant had written up. She looked down at the names, recognizing many of the purebloods as well as something peculiar about the girls.

"I see here you mentioned something about the men wanting the 'pretty blonde ones' the most?"

The man got a far away look in his eyes, "Yes, they were always the prettiest, mesmerizing almost. But as soon as I brought them out, the man would shackle them and then they'd change into scary witches. I just thought it was another freaky fetish thing."

She pursed her lips, made a mark on the paper and handed it back to Patrick.

"You're in luck today, Johnny. I will take your word for it that you've given me all I wanted. But if I do release you, how will I know something like this won't happen again? I'm sure someone like yourself knows how to adapt, change their name and go even deeper under the radar. I don't want to know more girls are being sold if I can stop at least one man."

The man spilled forward onto the table, grabbing her small hands and pleading with her again. She was almost surprised how he switched from smug to grovelling in seconds. "I won't do again, Ma'am. Don't do any freaky experiments on me. Please don't hurt me. Let me go, please."

She probed his mind, siphoning through his memories. She saw the faces of the all the girls, their pain and tears as they were just sold like cattle. She saw the faces of pureblood, lustful but with apparent disgust on their face. They hated her kind but were not above sullying themselves for pleasure. Such hypocrisy. She saw and felt Johnny's emotions during every transaction. He was numb to the girls' pain, only thinking about the sale and the money. He sold these girls into horrible fates and he was just as bad as the purebloods in his callousness.

She delved into Johnny's past: his muggle schools, where he seemed to be a ringleader of small gang; his mother, who only wanted the best for him but he didn't realize until later in life; and all the girlfriends he had that he ended up abusing.

She pulled out. She did not like hurting muggles, but this was a rotten man and a toxic individual, irredeemable and unable to be saved. If she released this man, he would definitely go back to his ways, but she had no use for him here. She had made her decision.

"I'm sorry, Johnny, but I don't believe you." She rose from the table, Patrick getting up behind her.

The man tried to get up to follow her as well, but realized he couldn't. He was stuck in his seat at the table. "Ma'am! Ma'am! Please!" he pleaded, but she did not turn back.

Outside the boardroom, two guards had been stationed while she had been inside. She turned to one and said, "Please take care of my guest as quickly as possible." He nodded and the pair went into the room. There was a flash of green from the room but she did not see. She continued with Patrick into the closest office on this floor. "Please, call Thomas and Grant. I want to go over their plan and add what I've learnt."

* * *

After finishing up with Thomas and Grant, she walked down to the holding cells, this time followed by Matthew. Mr Thwaites had been deemed dangerous and had to be restrained for his interrogation after being knocked out. She entered the cell, the man sitting at metal desk with his hands and legs held to the floor by invisible restrains. He shifted uncomfortably in the stiff-backed chair, his head moving only slightly with the invisible shackle around his neck which held him to the wall behind.

She and Matthew sat on the other side of the table and she offered the man a warm smile which he did not return. She began, "Mr Thwaites, I heard some of the nasty things you have been saying to my friend here."

The man regarded her with a cold look, obviously still seething at his lost of dignity, but he was quieter than he had been with Matthew, quiet, as in, not saying a word.

"I just spoke to Johnny and he mentioned having sold girls to you before, and how you seem to keep them like a collection," she continued.

Again, the man was silent, his expression unchanging.

She continued prodded him, asking questions from various angles, but he would say nothing in his defence or offence. She was growing incredibly impatient and a bit unsure of what to do next. They were usually more vocal once they were caught, most times spitting, but vocal nonetheless.

"You sully yourself with dirty blood on a regular basis, using the girls and discarding them as you see fit. I wonder what Mrs Thwaites, your wife and your mother, would think about this."

"They are both dead," the man finally said, his words clipped.

Ah. "So without them to reign you in, you do as you please. That must be a wonderful life - you dishonouring their legacy by inviting mudbloods into your home," she said nonchalantly. He almost looked regretful, his face a bit paler, as if he had never thought about it that way, but she was not interested in his remorse now. "I could take them all off your hands. The damage is already done but maybe you could redeem yourself in their eyes, though I doubt they would be very forgiving."

His fear and regret then turned into anger. He made to jump from the chair and at her, but the restraints tugged him back forcefully in his chair. He hissed in pain and said, "You know nothing about them, filth. I wish I could have added you to my collection. I would definitely break that pretty mouth of yours."

She tutted, and gave him another smile, "Of course you would, but that is not the world we live in. Currently, you are in my holding cells and you are the one in my 'collection'. Now there isn't much I really require of you, for what you know I could easily find out on my own. But it would be much easier if you just told me: I want to know of your collection."

He was quiet once more, his rage having died out. Her patience was thin. The sooner she found out where they were, the sooner she could find them. She probed his mind: she found his home, his cellar, his bedroom and all the acts performed on this girl by him and his friends, their wide grins and the girls' pained faces. She saw the vacant eyes of the girls, those that were broken on the inside and out. She saw the girls after they had expended their usefulness, their bodies mangled.

She pulled out in rage, sickened by what she saw and uninterested in anything further. She growled at him and he jumped back a bit, the sound unexpected. Her hand shot out like a bullet towards the man and she pushed her magic outwards.

The man's eyes rolled to the back over his head and started convulsing. His hands beat against the table, his feet stomping the floor, and his throat babbling. Blood rushed out of his mouth, his eyes, his nose, his ears. Matthew called her name, not knowing what she saw but knowing it was definitely terrible to inspire such a reaction from the usually calm woman.

But she was far beyond hearing Matthew, far beyond stopping. The man continued to shake before her, his hair matted with sweat and blood, and she found herself marvelling at his pain. She was avenging all those girls he tormented, humiliated, raped, dismembered and discarded like rotten meat.

He eventually fell forward onto the metal table, brain matter and blood leaking from his orifices, but she knew the table would not stain. She was breathing harshly, the only sound heard in the small room. The copper-iron smell rose from his limp body, mixed with the smell of regurgitated food. She didn't see Matthew's pale green face or hear him retching onto the floor.

She left the room in great strides, her chest still heaving. Matthew was slower to follow. Again, guards were outside the door, their faces pale from hearing the events within the room. She shrank a bit from her expression and she was sure she must have looked like a lunatic: her hair standing on end, sweat on her brow and her blue dress from this morning splattered with blood that was not her own.

She swallowed hard and then said to the guards, "I need a cleanup crew in there. Matthew, call David and we'll start the plans." She hoped to never do that again, but that was wishful thinking.

* * *

She sat in the tub, after scrubbing her skin raw of the man's blood. She had already discarded her clothes, requesting them to be burnt and not wanting to ever see them again. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her still frantic heart.

She should probably put those horrid memories in the Pensieve, but she would shoulder these sins. She knew she had to carry this burden because she deserved it for her actions, because those purebloods deserved it for their actions, because those muggleborns deserved it to acted on.

Her mind ran across the girl she had saved, the girl that had led her to these men in the first place. It wasn't her fault those men had died and she had probably saved those other girls from horrid futures. She wished she could be like that girl and not have to worry about matters such a this.

But life doesn't work that way. Life wasn't fair: it wasn't fair to her, wasn't fair to muggleborns and maybe what she did to those men wasn't 'fair', but it was too late for that.

She slipped a bit further into the water, hoping to wash these thoughts away.

* * *

Lucille envied the muggleborn girl. She was normal, with normal muggle parents who loved, probably went to a normal muggle school and was excited to find out she was a witch. She was someone who was happy to receive her letter and just have the opportunity to prove herself as more, to prove that someone from a non-magical background could be great.

She was the girl she had hoped Jaime would grow up to be, with her as the proud parent.

That was not the girl Lucille had been. As the new muggleborn 'Abbot', she was mistreated and abused, treated no more than a common house slave. It was harder for her to work among the elves; she did not have the powers they did and had to do her chores by hand. If she misbehaved or hadn't done her work properly, she was beaten and kicked. They never used spells against, but they hurt her just the same.

There was no one she could tell. No one would ever listen to the little mudblood girl who lived with the elves. She cried herself to sleep most nights as they tended to her wounds. She knew there was no hope for her really to escape these people, for she was legally their 'daughter'.

Then hope came in the form of a letter - her Hogwarts letter. The letter that would allow her to use magic. She would become a full-fledged witch. She could prove that she was more than just a waste of space. In her naive, young mind, she thought that maybe if she was really good, just maybe the Abbots would let her out of the elves' quarters.

Lucille walked quickly through the house towards her parents' study with her letter clutched in her hand. Yesterday was her birthday, not that her foster parents had cared. She had a quiet birthday party with the elves and they even came together and made her a card. It was currently pasted on the wall next to her little cot. The best present was a letter Dotty had given her from Hogwarts itself which she intercepted from the delivery owl.

She knocked softly on the door two times before she waited with her hands behind her back. Then the door was wrenched open and her 'mother', or as she was to call her, Marissa, stared down at her. "What do you want girl? Shouldn't you be preparing afternoon tea?"

Lucille bowed low, her long hair brushing the floor. No matter how much Marissa would cut it, it always grew back to the correct length, until she just gave up. Lucille spoke with her head still down, "I got my Hogwarts letter yesterday."

Marissa stepped out of the study and snatched the letter from her hands clasped behind her back. She ripped open the envelope saying, "I didn't even know you were ten and now you're eleven." Her eyes scanned the letter briefly before she looked back down at the crouching girl. "Girl, look at me."

Lucille raised her head and couldn't hold back the hopeful look in her eyes. She had always wanted to go Hogwarts, ever since she heard of it from the matrons at the orphanage.

Her mother smiled down at her, "Lucille, Lucille, Lucille. You won't be going to Hogwarts, girl. You have to stay here and work with the elves." Before Lucille could say anything, Marissa took the letter and envelope in both hands ripped it right down the middle, then into fours. "So throw any notions out of your pretty little head. Clean this mess up and I expect tea within the next five minutes."

Marissa trotted back into the study before shutting the door in Lucille's face. Lucille bent down and picked up the torn pieces with tears in her eyes. Her parents didn't want to spend money on her or needless school supplies. Living with them was already a gift. She shouldn't be greedy asking for more. She already knew what happened when she did that.

She scuttled off with the pieces and into the kitchen to prepare tea. She should have kept the letter to herself.

More letters kept coming, and everyday Marissa would rip them up, making sure that Lucille saw. Eventually it led to this small cramped cupboard of the kitchen. All because she was magic. All because she was dirty in their eyes. And from the people who attended Marissa's parties, they thought her that way too. Marissa was so caring and compassionate to take one of them in.

Now Lucille had never hated anyone before. She never hated those boys for hurting her parents, she never hated the orphanage and she had never hated her foster parents. It just wasn't in her to hate. But now she sat in the cupboard, she had started to entertain the idea of hatred. She started to understand the concept of unfairness and being unjustly treated.

Lucille scratched at the side of the cupboard, deeper than she intended. She had been here for three days now, the house-elves forbidden to give her any food until the letters stopped coming. She was beyond hungry now, her stomach eating itself as it grumbled, but she felt no pain. All she wanted was to be set free.

Then the cupboard opened and shielded her unadjusted to the bright light from beyond. A kind face appeared in the space, mostly shadowed by the light behind him. "Lucille, my child," he said kindly, "please come out of here."

He reached his hand out and gently pulled her from the cupboard. All the house-elves were looking at this man in awe, but quickly came around when she came out. She saw the Abbots standing in the doorway to the elves' quarters with deep frowns on their face. She cowered under their gazes and the old man noticed.

He turned to the Abbots, "Marissa, Florean, what have you been doing to this girl?"

Marissa put on her prettiest smile and approached the old man, the elves parting in her wake, "Nothing at all, Albus. But she was being a bit disobedient so we put her in... a time out."

"Ah, I think a better place for a time out would be her room and not a cupboard," the old man said.

Marissa stammered a bit before saying, "I raise my child how I see fit, Albus. And she seems to have learnt her lesson, right dear?"

The question was directed her at with another pointed look and Lucille quickly nodded.

The old man looked at her and then back at Marissa, "You are indeed correct, Marissa. I don't have the rights to tell you how to raise your child, but I do have the right to report signs of abuse."

Florean spoke up, "That won't be necessary, Albus. I'm sure the girl will never act out again. Lucille, please go to your room."

The girl looked down at her bare feet and slowly walked towards a small door at the back of the elves' quarters. The old man asked, "Where are you going, child?"

She was going to answer when Florean said, "Yes, Lucille, don't you remember? Your room is on the second floor." He held out a hand towards her.

Could this really be true? But Lucille knew not to believe them too easily. She had been tricked before. She walked back over to the Abbots and stood in front of Marissa, who put a tentative hand on the girl's shoulder.

The old man reached into his long purple robes and pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. "Now I believe this is yours, and yours alone." He spoke to Marissa, "Someone will be here to take her for her supplies on August 31, which is in two weeks. Please make sure she is ready to go at 10 o'clock."

The old man made to leave the room and Lucille felt the grip on her shoulder tighten. He said one last thing to the Abbots, "Remember what I have said."

She had hoped that her parents would have been scared of the old man. He seemed to radiate power, possess vast wisdom and commanded respect. Was life finally being fair to young Lucille?

Not a chance in hell. Although the old man had warned her parents, nothing had changed in the Abbot household. She was still abused, still mistreated and still attending to her parents' needs as a magicless house-elf. Only one good thing came from this: she had been moved from the elves' quarters and given a room on the second floor. It was bare save for a small four-poster bed, a set of drawers and a mirror.

Lucille would be happy with the small miracles. She would live her life, accepting her place in the Abbot family, but unknowingly harbouring her hatred of them, and all purebloods, for the next few years until everything fell apart.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I got a few reviews from Brian1972, Galactic Alien and a Guest all asking almost the same question, so I'll address them here and everyone can see._

_Because her cause can somewhat be justified (removing pureblood prejudice and oppression of muggleborns), Lucille doesn't come off as very dark. She's almost righteous and just, like a revolutionary (someone said Che Guevara), but even dictators will find a way to justify their cause. She's a Hufflepuff, and kind soul, so it's hard to show her 'darkness' but I'll put in some of that soon._

_Also, you guys asked what do Lily, Hermione and Remus think of her methods, since she's essentially advocating for their rights. _The purebloods aren't actively catching and sending mudbloods and creatures to their deaths, but we know that they are prejudice against all things impure and they're not above torturing and killing them when they see fit. Laws may even be in place that allow purebloods to do such things and get away with it. (Think of slavery where it was allowed for a slave-owner to kill his slave without consequence, for the slave was his master's property). __The Order is all about doing the right thing for everyone, but it's very difficult when the people you're trying to help still look down on you, don't want your help and don't help each other because they're too stuck up and proud to admit their weaknesses. __

_The Order don't know just how vast her army is. They don't know they she has armies of giants, merpeople, centaurs, werewolves, etc., they can only suspect. She's really good at staying under the radar because they don't even know where she is or how she's kidnapping purebloods in the first place, or if she'll come after 'blood-traitors' like James, Sirius and Weasleys as well. And though they want equal rights for all blood types and creatures, they definitely do not agree with how she's going about it. Killing people to get a social reform is not very humane or just. _

_However, they know just like she does, that simply talking to the purebloods, or the government, is not enough for they wouldn't listen. They can't hold positions of power within the Ministry to make any change. Even if they were to talk to the Minister of Magic, why would he listen to the Order (or Dumbledore), when a pureblood like Lucius Malfoy can just wave his money around and get his way. We all know the corruption that was within the Ministry, even while Voldemort had been vanquished by Harry Potter when he was a baby. The Order is small, so their voice is small against the pull and power of the rich purebloods whose prejudice has gone on for centuries (from the Founders' time, and probably even before). There's just so much they can do._

_These topics may be a bit sensitive for some, but I hope you guys understand what I'm trying to say. Share your thoughts in reviews or even PMs._

_In this chapter which I kind of long, what will happen to Hermione? Aren't Harry, Ron and the Order worried about her? because she's been gone for awhile. And Lucille is going to check in on the girls she rescued and investigate the purebloods in the North of Spain I mentioned earlier. Another busy day for the Dark Lady. For this chapter's flashback, we see the beginnings of Lucille's new family and her first bonding ritual._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

**Chapter 8 - Making New Bonds**

The view outside the window was breath-taking. She had chosen this room specifically for her study for it gave her the best view of the compound. She could see the river leading to the lake just a walk away, the lovely fruit orchard which blew the lovely fragrances through her window during spring, the lovely flowers that she had planted everywhere, all the colours painted across the field and the greenhouse from here, which always brought a smile to her face.

She turned towards the girl across from her, who looked a bit confused and out of place. She wanted her guest to feel anything but. "So Hermione, I hope Hilary took good care of you overnight. I know you've been through a lot in the last 24 hours," she said looking over Hermione for anything Hilary may have missed, but she knew that Hilary was great at what she did.

"How did you know where I was?" Hermione asked.

She smiled, "It was just luck. I happened to be walking by and I heard something, and it was a good thing I did, isn't it?"

"I- I- Thank you so much for saving me," the girl said graciously. "I don't know what would have happened had you not been there. I would have been bought by that- that-"

"Mr. Graham Thwaites," she said with a disgusted frown on her face, but it soon disappeared.

"Monster," Hermione insisted. "Again, thank you, miss..." Hermione hesitated.

"Just call me Madam. That's what everyone calls me around here if you haven't noticed," she said with a dainty laugh. She looked behind Hermione at Patrick. "Patrick, could you please ask Lotty to bring tea in here? I would like to share it with my new friend." Patrick nodded and then left the two women. Then she looked back at Hermione who seemed to something more to say. She gestured kindly for the girl to speak.

"You called me Hermione. How do you know who I am?" Hermione asked warily.

"I was just so worried about and you were unconscious. I wanted to know who was the sweet, passionate girl I met in the bookstore that I had to take home with me because of a pair of horrible, sleazy men," she said placing a soft hand on Hermione's.

"What happened to them?" Hermione asked.

She sat back in her chair, crossed her legs and gripped the arms of her chair tightly, "They have been dealt with accordingly."

"You did something to them?" Hermione asked in surprise. "You can't just hurt people."

She looked at the girl strangely, "But they would have hurt you, Hermione. I did what had to be done and much more humanely than they would not have afforded you."

The girl looked ready to jump from her chair indignantly but then the study doors opened and a small house-elf came with a lovely tray of tea and small sandwiches. "Madam," she said with a bow.

She took the tray from the elf and placed it on the small table between her and the girl, who was just staring at the house-elf. It must have been strange for her to see an elf in small tunic. The elf curtseyed and then she brought her into a small hug, "Thank you, Lotty." When the elf left them, she turned back to Hermione, "Tea is served."

"You have house-elves," Hermione said.

"I have family who are house-elves. I love each and everyone of them. I've known Lotty for a long time. She used to read me stories when I was younger," she said, taking up a small sandwich.

They fell into a comfortable silence, at least comfortable for her. She wasn't sure about Hermione but she seemed to be relaxing around her, which was good. That made the next step much easier.

"Now, Hermione," she said, after wiping her fingers on a small napkin from the tea set. "You saw firsthand what purebloods do to muggleborn witches. I am a muggleborn myself, and I know a lot about their prejudices. I don't like that they think they're better than me, simply because they were born with magical parents and I was not. I have spent years trying to change that belief but talking to them simply doesn't work. Words don't faze them, especially from someone like me." Here, she laughed, for she remembered when she had started with simply talking but she was naive then. She learnt better ways to get what she wanted.

"I know you too have been trying to prove yourself, Hermione. I know how smart you are, I know passionate you are to learn about the world around you, and I know what purebloods do to muggleborns like you who wish to get ahead. They can't admit that they may be lacking, so they put others down whenever they can."

She could practically see the cogs moving in the girl's head but for now, she would not delve into her mind. She would give the girl her privacy. But it was obvious that her words had hit home, as the girl looked close to angry tears.

She placed a comforting hand on Hermione's again, "Would you like to prove yourself, Hermione? Would you like to help me change these horrid pureblood beliefs? Like I said, they don't listen to words, but there are other ways to make people change."

Now the girl looked horrified and she knew this conversation was starting to go downhill. "You're torturing them and killing them! You're the one behind the disappearances! You're Lucille!" The girl jumped up. "You're-" Then a blank look passed over her face and she seemed a bit lost.

_**What an interesting girl. What else does she know?**_ She delved into the girl's mind, shifting through her memories quickly: her muggle parents smiling at, her report card from her muggle school, her days at Hogwarts and her wonder of seeing the castle for the first time, her friends - some redheads and a dark-haired boy, the Order!

There was always talk of an uprising. Someone who wanted her stop what she was doing. They were innocent lives they said. She would always laugh. None of them were innocent babes worth saving. They would argue, they are still lives. To her, during her cynic moments, they were more like objects, she wouldn't even liken them to animals. Objects felt nothing, objects were never alive to begin with, and objects would never die, just like their hatred towards her kind. Objects could be broken and shattered, and oh did she like breaking her objects once caught up in the moment.

She pulled out, the girl still wondering how she got on her feet. "Hermione, you must understand. You can make a difference, you can change them." The girl held her tongue, still looking confused. "Please, think about what I've said. I will see you in a few hours and we will talk again. Lotty!" The house-elf reappeared, startling the girl. She continued, "Please see Hermione to one of the guest rooms on the second floor." The small elf flashed away with the girl in hand.

The study doors opened and Patrick came in, "How did it go, Madam?"

She rose from the chair and walked towards the man, "She's a child in the Order and has valuable information we can use. I didn't have much time to analyze everything I could, so it would be good to keep her around for awhile. She's also very smart, very resourceful from what I've gathered, so I would love to have her in my family, if she'll join. If not, I'll send her back out." Patrick nodded and they both left the study. They walked through the hall as she said, "Let's visit those girls now before I let them go."

* * *

"Have you heard anything from Hermione?" Harry asked as he stepped out of the Weasley's fireplace.

Ron and Ginny shook their heads. "No we haven't. After she didn't meet with us, I sent her an owl but it just came back with the letter still attached to its leg," Ginny said as they walked into the kitchen.

Harry nodded gravely, "That's the same thing happened with my owl too. I visited her home and her mom said she wasn't home, but I didn't want to worry her so I said that she probably slept over your house."

Ron frowned and then said, "You don't think something happened to her, do you?"

Harry said, "I'm not sure." He saw Fred and George descend the stairs. "Hey guys, what does it mean when an owl doesn't deliver a letter."

Fred thought about it while George grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the table. "Owls just know where to find people, no matter where they are. So either the person is in a place the owl can't get to, like underground or something-"

"Or the person is dead," George ended, taking a loud bite as he fell into a chair at the table, "Why?"

"Oh nothing," Harry said before turning the conversation onto something else. As everyone was distracted, he leaned over to Ron, "I think we need to tell my parents."

* * *

Lucille walked into the large multi-purpose room on the third floor, which was currently serving as a form of dining hall for her guests. Plates of food towered high on a banquet table to the left as all the girls, muggles, witched and veelas alike, ate their meals. They were all looking much healthier than they had when they came to the compound last night. Some were wrapped in bandages while others wore scars. It was a strange sight but it was good to have them here.

When she entered the room, they all turned to her and gave her looks of wariness and curiosity. "Hello," she greeted warmly. "I trust you have been treated well by my family, and I am so happy that you are now safe and away from those horrid men."

She was about to continue when a girl at the closest table got up and threw herself at her feet. "Thank you so much, Ma'am, for finding me. You don't know what they were doing to me, what I had to do, what I had to watch. I had lost hope long ago that I would ever get out of that place but then you came. I can't thank you enough."

The girl continued to cry as she brought her back to her feet and held her close, hoping her kind, confident facade didn't falter before the crowd. The sad thing was that she did know what they were doing to the girl, what she had done and seen. She had gone through all their memories. She felt all their emotions and experienced everything through their eyes. She knew what they knew, which she was still using in order to find more girls and find more of those people who were doing this to them.

She looked around the room and saw the girl's face and feelings reflected in all the other girls. They were all grateful and some were walking up to her as well, joining in on a large group hug. She hadn't felt this warm in a long time, and soon she felt very hot from all the bodies around her.

She laughed and extricated herself from the group. "Your gratitude is more than enough. I just wished I had gotten to you sooner," she said with a sad smile. She cleared her throat and then said, "But now I must give you all a choice. I know this all must be very scary, but know that you are safe here. I would not let anything happen to after what you had to go through. I can keep you safe, I can ensure that nothing like this will happen again, but there is a price for this protection."

The girl that had first thrown herself down shouted, "Anything, Ma'am, anything at all."

She racked her mind and then remembered the girl's name. "Melissa, and everyone, you must first listen to everything I have said. This price is steep and there are no refunds. You cannot go back on your word and must be completely loyal to me. You must be willing to put your life on the line for me. You must be willing to kill or be killed for me." At that last sentence, the girls started to look uneasy. "But you can sleep safely knowing that I am watching over you. No one can or will ever hurt you again. Those who are willing, truly willing and want to hear more, please step forward. For the others, just step over here next to Patrick and he will guide you out. I wish you all the best with your lives."

There were murmurs around the room, before some of the girls moved forward. When the dust settled, most of the girls had stepped forward, leaving six muggle girls, two witches and three Veelas to move towards Patrick. She nodded to Patrick who led the small group out of the dining room.

She turned back to her group, "Now if you girls will all take a seat before me, I can continue discussing the details of our arrangement. We are now a-"

The doors burst open and Thomas and Grant ran up to her frantically. "Madam! Madam! The purebloods in Sector G4 are back and causing havoc!"

She hissed and then turned back to her group, "Please, if you girls would return to your rooms. We will talk later." She rushed out of the room, ignoring their confused look and walked with Thomas and Grant to the apparation area. She stopped into the room with Patrick and the other girls. She said, "I'm attending to business in Spain with Thomas and Grant. Continue what you're doing and note anything of importance." He nodded and she continued on her way.

* * *

As she appeared in the forest, the strong smell of blood assaulted her nose, but unfortunately she knew it was not human. As she ran forward with Thomas and Grant behind her, she saw the large body of Progtam lying ahead, the leaves beneath him stained red, and she knew he was dead. Looking away from the body with a tear in her eye, she shouted out, "Magoyan!"

Above the trees she heard his voice, a loud roar to Thomas and Grant's ears, but to her, "Come to the main clearing, Madam."

She gestured to Thomas and Grant and they ran in that direction and appeared at the edge of the clearing. Magoyan and the other sector leaders were there. To one side, were the bodies of three men, some of their limbs missing. In Magoyan's grasp, they're were five people struggling, four men and a woman. She pointed up to the them and Thomas restrained the moving people, while Grant walked over to the corpses. She questioned Magoyan, "What happened here?"

"The purebloods stormed through the settlement firing spells. They were looking for us. They were here for fun. We heard them laughing. They all killed Progtam. We killed some back," Magoyan explained.

She nodded then asked, "How many were there?"

"About 20, Madam. The others got blood-thirsty and killed them. These are the ones we could recover."

She nodded again and said, "Thank you for calling as soon as possible."

Then she walked over to Thomas who was standing with the living people. They were spitting angry, as she had expected, but the fear was evident in their eyes. One of the men started shouting at her in Spanish thinking she couldn't understand him. _"This filthy blood woman thinks she can do as she pleases. Wait until the others come to look for us."_

She just turned to them, all five of them and replied in Spanish, _"This filthy blood woman cares not for your tone. No one will come for you, both of us know they won't put themselves in danger to save those who were stupid enough to get caught."_

All of their eyes widened before the woman began pleading for her to be let go, _"Release me. Take them! We are both women."_

She arched her eyebrow, _"This is the only time you would ever want me and you to be the same, but it's not enough if were to meet under other circumstances. I cannot help you."_

The woman blinked and then was venomous once more, shouting racial and blood slurs. This ignited a fury within her and she snapped her wand towards the woman's face. Fine points appeared to be coming out of the Spanish woman's face, her cheeks, her lips, her forehead and around her eyes, causing her to scream out in pain. Her friends screamed as well in shock and tried to pull away from her. The woman begged as the needles kept pushing forward, their points finally breaking the skin, drops of blood sliding down her face from each hole. She started apologizing and the needles stopped pushing but remained in place.

She looked at them closely and then turned to Thomas, "Do you recognize any of them?"

"No, Madam. But their identities can be confirmed at the compound. We have files on all the purebloods registered in Spain," he said.

She smiled, thanked him and said, "Please do so as well with the corpses. Grant, please search the area with a few of the giants from Sector G2 for the other wizards. You should be able to handle it as from what I gather, there aren't many left."

Her officers nodded before they carried out their tasks. She then looked back at the giants. "Magoyan, please call the giants that killed those purebloods, as well as a few others. I need to speak to you all for a moment. And then we can all bury Progtam together."

He nodded and moved to call the others as the other squad leaders lined up in front of her. She would not be leaving here for awhile.

* * *

Hermione sat near the window of her room, her view mostly of the huge forest behind the building she was in. The house-elf Lotty had left her here and a few minutes later, brought her something to eat. But she barely ate. Her mind had a lot to process.

She sighed and threw herself down on the bed. She knew she was with Her, this was Her building. She couldn't believe she finally met Her. She couldn't believe that kind lady in the bookshop, the one who had saved her, would be the same woman kidnapping the purebloods. She didn't look like a killer. She looked like a saint, someone's loving mum. But could She really be evil, a wolf in sheep's clothing?

She remembered some of what the woman had said to her, and she knew that purebloods and those in power hardly listened to those beneath them. She had felt this strongly for she was a young, muggleborn witch. She had three prejudices against her. But did that justify torturing and killing them? From what she knew, She was just like her, but Hermione would never do what She was doing. Why couldn't people just live in peace?

But she was in. Her plan to get in practically fell into her lap in one of the worst ways. But she was saved, saved by the one person she was looking for. Now that she was in, what would she do? She didn't have much to tell the others as she had only been in the infirmary, the woman's study and her room. She would have to wait and see when the woman called on her again.

* * *

She interrogated everyone possible, rifling through their memories to build a better picture of what had happened. It started when Sector G3 farmers were carrying grain back to the sheds. There was a large explosion and fire alighted the tops of the trees. All the giants nearby cried out, the males standing before the women and children. Then there was wild hooting and spells shot through the forest. She saw the laughing wizards as they slashed and injured the giants and burnt and destroyed farms. Protgam was protecting his family when several cutting curses were aimed at his legs. He fell to the forest floor and then a killing curse hit him right in his eye. The other giants started tearing the wizards apart, some where eaten, some ripped to pieces. Magoyan tried to calm his brethren while Draogan ran to the portrait. All in all, they handled the situation well and she would reward them later, but she definitely had a talk with the more bloody-thirsty ones. They would not forget her message or the ringing in their ears.

Then it was time for the funeral. Whereas human funerals may be somber occasions, giant funerals were all about joy. The body was burnt, the strong smell of burning flesh assaulting her nostrils, and the fire used to prepare the bounteous feast. They celebrated the life of Protgam into the night. He was Magoyan's brother's brother-in-law, which made the giants of Sector G1 the loudest, and tributes were given to his family. Each sector leader said a few words before there was a rousing funeral song infused with alcohol.

She had finally gotten away from a horde of drunken giants and she hoped they wouldn't get into too much trouble, but she knew that they would. She would have to send someone to fix up afterwards. She was a bit woozy herself, partaking in the festivities but sparingly for giants' alcohol was more concentrated than human's. It was dark now at compound. She hoped Patrick had dealt with the girls who had chosen not stay. Even without her protection, she would ensure a better life for them. Their memories of their ordeals, and of her compound, would be removed and they would be integrated into society as if nothing had happened.

She woke the next morning well rested and ready to begin her long day. After she had bathed, dressed and eaten, she made her way back to the group of girls. She outlined the terms and conditions once more, and a few girls had decided against joining her. She held no hard feelings as she led them to Patrick as she had with the others.

The remaining girls would be inducted into her family, placing their loyalty in her hands and hers in theirs, thus establishing a bond of trust. They would look up to her, fight for her and lay down their lives for her, but she would also be their sister who they could run to in times of need. She would be their mother who would look out for them and protect them. They would do the official fealty ceremony the following week, giving her enough time to erect the settlements.

She then went to Hermione's room. This would be a private conversation, quick and painless hopefully. She hoped the girl had thought more about their talk yesterday.

* * *

There was a knock at door and when Hermione realized the person was waiting for a response, she called them inside. It was the woman from yesterday. She greeted her warily, but was met with a gracious smile.

"Hermione, have you thought about what I said yesterday?" she asked while taking a seat on the foot of her bed.

Hermione had definitely thought about it. It was the only she could think about. And she knew she still couldn't agree with the woman's methods. There was no way to justify killing, whether pureblood against muggleborn or vice versa.

"What if purebloods had made your life a living hell since you were born, Hermione? What if purebloods stormed your home and killed your parents, torturing and humiliating them before finally ending 'mercifully' ending their lives? What if they pretended to take you in only to stomp on your spirit? What if, even when you felt good about yourself for being magical, they reminded you again that you were still worthless?" the woman spat as if reading her thoughts, her fire getting more incensed as she spoke.

She could see the woman breathing heavily as she tried to calm down and Hermione took a step back. She could sympathize and she too could feel the anger rising within her but was it enough to kill?

"You're better than me, Hermione. I live with that everyday. Even now that I've risen above, purebloods still think nothing of me. But I have the help of family now, and I will make them listen to me, whether they want to or not. My cause is noble, my methods questionable, but I find it yields the most results. Your skills and knowledge would be most helpful, as well as your aptitude towards learning. I see a lot of potential within you. I see the possibility of you rising above the crowd and being able to hold your head high in a world without prejudice. Do you not want that, Hermione?"

"Of course I do," she screamed, "But is killing the best way? That would make you just bad as them."

The woman grew quiet, "I have thought about that, but this is the most effective way I have found. By this method, I live with my sins and the sins of those of my family everyday. I carry their burdens and receive their judgement. That is my sacrifice to them for I will do anything for my family."

She meant what she was saying, Hermione could hear the conviction in her voice. She found herself slipping off the edge, agreeing with this woman. The world she envisioned was very tempting, it was something Hermione had also wished for.

"I will ask you one last time. Will you join my cause, Hermione? Will you help yourself and those like you to get better?" she asked forcefully, and Hermione knew her decision time was running out.

She made to open her mouth but the woman stopped her. "Please know exactly what you are getting into to before answering. As a part of my family, you will pledge your loyalty to me and protect my cause and identity by whatever means necessary. You will continue as normal though there will be no contact with outsiders unless allowed. You can be called on at a moment's notice for whatever reason. You must be ready to fight for me, to kill for me and to die for me, whether it be friend or foe. You must do so without question. Do you understand and accept these terms?"

Hermione understood. She would do what she had to, she would enable rights for all wizards but she would do it her own way. It seemed the best way was to work within this woman's organization. Hermione would sacrifice herself and her morals and enable others to stop this woman from the outside as she worked in the inside. "I understand," she said resolutely.

The woman stared her and then she smiled and said, "You don't really understand, Hermione. But you will in time, I do not doubt that. You have been sheltered and have not seen what I have seen. I will be sure to show you in due time, even as soon as a few days from now."

Hermione bristled as the woman spoke down to her, treating her almost like a kid who still believed in Father Christmas. She would succeed in her plan and she would see justice carried out. The woman's smile widened and then a scrap of paper appeared in her hand. "This will bind our agreement. Are you ready?"

With Hermione's nod, the woman started, "_Ego sum apud te_," causing a white light to shine out of her chest. Hermione responded, "_Sicut et ego vobiscum_" and a similar light shot from her own chest. Then they chorused, "_Nos unum sumus._"

Blinding pain racked Hermione's body, and she felt back onto the bed convulsing and a scream ripping from her throat. She wondered if she had done the right thing as all she had accomplished was possible death. Then the pain stopped and she was breathing heavily, her body sore from the muscle spasm.

She looked at the woman who had remained at the end of the bed, her gaze on Hermione but the only sign of exhaustion was her chest moving slowly. "I've done this many times before," the woman said before getting up. She held out a hand to Hermione, drawing her up and then embracing her. "You are family now, Hermione, and I know that you'll like the outcome. For now, I will move you into a different room and you may rest." She gave her a kiss on the cheek and said, "You won't regret this," before walking out of the room.

Hermione held a hand to her chest, her heart hammering against her ribs. She hoped she wouldn't.

* * *

"How's the new girl?" someone asked to her right. She turned to see Matthew falling into step with her.

She smiled and said, "You're the only one who can sneak up on me like that."

He grinned, "Maybe because you're so used to my presence, maybe because you were distracted, or maybe because I just that good."

She stuck out her foot and he almost toppled forward, "But you're not that good."

He frowned and then smiled again, "So?"

"She thinks she can stop me from the inside to help the Order on the outside," she said while they walked to her quarters.

He chuckled and said, "Headstrong this one."

"Quite so," she agreed.

"Remind you of anyone?" Matthew asked cheekily.

She blushed, "Yes actually, which is why I still bonded with her."

Matthew paused and then said, "What? But Lu, she's going to actively work against you. If it were anyone else, you would have removed her immediately."

She smiled, "True. But I see potential in her. Though headstrong, she can be broken with just the right blows and she will be very useful. Also, as an Order child, they will wonder where she is and bring themselves out of hiding, making them easier to find. If neither of those happen, then the bond will at least keep her in check."

Matthew nodded sagely and then said, "Very clever, Lu. I approve of your decision."

She laughed and said, "Like I needed your approval. But it's definitely nice to have it. So, lunch?"

He grinned before following her inside the suite. They would call Patrick to join them and discuss the details of the next fealty ceremony.

* * *

Lucille had done the bonding ritual more times than she could count. She had done the ceremony with everyone of her family members, except the children whose parents underwent a slightly altered version. Over time, she got used to the pain and her recovery time was almost non-existent. But she still remembered the pain she felt when she had done it for the first time.

She had told Matthew of her idea of a new family, a family of all those who wished to finally be free from pureblood prejudices. There must have been many others who had been just like her, constantly put down for being born the way she was. She highlighted that not just muggleborns, but also muggles, creatures and sapient beings, were all deemed 'impure' by those callous purebloods and she wanted to unite them all.

Though wary at first, Matthew soon agreed with her. She had told him everything about her life and he could see how all those events could lead her to this decision and her hatred of pureblood tyranny. He too shared the nightmare that was that horrible muggleborn orphanage, being put there when he was 7 and returning there every summer during his time at Hogwarts, but his past was nothing compared to hers. Her plan would stop this for all muggleborns and creatures and those to come.

But he wondered how they would keep this family together. They both knew one of the greatest flaws of the purebloods was a lack of loyalty and integrity, which made their prejudice that much stronger as none felt any loyalty or kindness to another. But she had an answer for that, she had thought this out.

There was a dark spell, a bonding ritual, she had been researching that bonded souls to a main anchor. This would bring all those bonded closer to the anchor, her will imposed on them and them being unable to outright defy her. Their loyalty would be ensured, but she would keep them happy and treat them fairly. They would continue to live as they wanted, only called upon when necessary, and they would be happy as part of her family, so they would be loyal not just out of obligation but of their own will.

They had called upon Patrick, their best friend, the next time he stopped by the house. Patrick was a halfblood but his pureblood mother had died, so he was good as muggle in the purebloods eyes. After some convincing, he too came onboard, asking the same question of ensuring unyielding loyalty and she explained the bonding ritual.

The day had come when they were ready to try it. They sat in the small living room of her and Matthew's new home. She had been reading and rereading the information before they were ready.

"The spell requires an anchor, someone who all the other persons will be bonded to. This will allow mastery of all those bonded, the will of the anchor stronger than that of the bonded. They will be forced to obey the anchor or punishment will be exacted on the bonded as the anchor sees fit," she said as she explained the text.

The two men swallowed before Patrick said, "This seems very dangerous and we don't know the effects down the road. Are you sure you want to do this, Lucille?"

She stared at him, a fire behind her eyes, "This is my new family, the family I wanted for so long and now I'll be able to choose and adopt who I want. Don't take this opportunity away from me."

Matthew volunteered, "I will be the anchor."

Lucille shook her head, "No, I will do it. I will be the one to carry the weight of all those who join my family, as it should be." She gave each of them a look at the text before saying, "Ready?"

They said the incantation and then the pain ripped through them, their screams mixing together as Patrick watched on in horror. When it ended, they lay together in a quivering pile, blood oozing from her nose.

"I feel as if a knife was sliced upwards through my chest. How will we know that it worked?" Matthew asked he pushed himself off the living room floor.

Patrick picked up the book and said, "Lucille, give him an order, but it has to be in Latin. It's an old spell."

She thought for a moment before she said, "_Ballo!"_

Matthew then began to wiggle awkwardly, his body obeying her request. Lucille and Patrick laughed as Matthew scowled before he stopped dancing. "Well now we know it worked," he said grumpily as he dropped onto the couch.

"Now, your turn, Patrick," she said as she got shakily onto her own feet.

"Maybe we should wait awhile, Lucille. You don't look too good," Patrick said and he tried to force her to sit down.

"No, do it now!" she ordered.

They said the incantation once more. He screamed along with her and soon he was panting heavily, but she still hadn't stopped shaking. They both panicked and Patrick ran to her side to hold her down as Matthew flipped through her dark books for a solution. Her convulsions soon subsided on their own.

As she later found out, the bonding ritual was imperfect and was difficult to do, especially as more persons were bonded to the anchor. For every person bonded, a part of her soul would be tethered to theirs, thus detaching it a bit from the whole.

Lucille made it her mission, as she continued to bond to more persons, beings and creatures, to perfect the bonding ritual, minimizing the pain for those involved as much as possible. This bond proved to be very useful over the years, the rewards far outweighing the price, as she built her family and carried out the eradication of prejudice, pureblood by pureblood.

* * *

_A/N: So Lucille got a couple more purebloods, she got a couple of Veelas, muggleborns and muggles, Hermione is now bonded, and Lucille knows exactly what's going on, but sees benefits in the two outcomes._

_Two things I think need to be said:_

_1\. The taboo makes everyone in the vicinity forget the last thing they said about her, kinda like a 'how did I get here?' moment. It's supposed to prevent talk of her from spreading and is part of how she stays hidden. It's also tells her who said the name and where, but she hasn't fine tuned it yet so still working out the kinks with that one. The Order gets around it by saying "She" or "Her", so it's not perfect but they could have also used codenames and she wouldn't be able to stop it either._

_2\. I just realized that the visiting of the settlements, the trip to muggle London, Hermione's capture and rescue, and the interrogations all happened in the same day. What a busy day for a Dark Lady. lol._


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Thanks for your reviews and thoughts. Keep them coming and I hope you stick around for the rest of the story. RxR. FxF._

_This one is a bit long as we a little bit more of the inner workings of Lucille's family. __In this chapter, Hermione begins snooping around and talks to some people, and Lucille holds a meeting. __The flashback in this chapter details the first disappearance Hagrid was telling Harry, Ron and Hermione about. It takes place after she lost her daughter and before she bonds with Matthew and Patrick._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

**Chapter 9 - Holding A Grudge**

The house-elf from before, Lotty, had come into the room after She had left. With kind words, she took Hermione's hand and they disappeared. This feeling was much like apparating but even more cramped if possible and there were sharp edges along the 'tunnel'. When they reappeared, Hermione took a few deep breaths while clutching her side. The house-elf apologized profusely, explaining that house-elves travelled in a smaller space because they were smaller.

Once her pain had subsided and she convinced the house-elf she was fine, the elf led her through a few passageways. Hermione tried memorizing the route, but every passage looked the exactly the same and were lined with nondescript doors. She wondered if she was in some type of housing facility, for she felt like she was in a muggle hotel.

The house-elf stopped by one of the many doors and pushed it opened softly before allowing Hermione to enter first. Though she tried to seem unimpressed, she couldn't hold back the smile that came on her face upon seeing the place. It was painted in her favourite colour - lilac, with flowers actually growing from the walls, their long tendrils creeping on the wooden frame of her large bookcase. She really knew what would make Hermione feel at home. She ran straight to the case, running her fingers along the spines of the numerous books, crisped and aged, muggle and wizard, of all shapes and sizes. She was given a large four-poster bed, a small tea table near the window which overlooked the lake, and a beautifully crafted set of drawers and a mirror. On the bed, there was a note which said, "I hope this room is to your liking." Regrettably it was.

After she had been put in her new room and the house-elf had left, she almost didn't want to leave. But she pushed open the door and began exploring. Hermione walked around the large compound, trying to learn as much as she could about the place, the people here and Her. She found herself at the mouth of the long corridor. Despite the lack of windows, the hall was very well lit by what looked like natural light. She had tried most of the doors, but no matter how much she tugged they wouldn't budge. It wasn't until then did she realize, in all the confusion and disorientation, she didn't have her wand! She hoped that it had been put in her room, or she would have to find Her and ask for it.

She continued her exploration, took countless corners and turns, just to discover she was... lost. Hermione screamed out in frustration. She had gone too far and couldn't retrace her steps back to her room. She had no idea how far she was from it and no wand to guide her there.

There was noise behind the door on her right and then it suddenly opened to reveal a small girl, maybe only 8 years old, who smiled at her as she entered the hallway. She was wearing a lovely blue dress and white stockings, but her short brown hair stuck up in strangle angles as if cut with pruning shears. Hermione noticed a few faint lines on her exposed arms but before she could say anything, the girl practically shouted, "Hi! Are you new here too?"

Hermione nodded silently, still unsure what to make of her. The girl smiled and grabbed her hand, "I've never seen you before, so I guess you were brought in after me." The girl pulled her down the hall to a destination only she knew, Hermione following as the girl spoke, "There were about 7 of us in my group, girls just like me. I didn't know there were girls like me. I thought I was the only one."

"Only what?" Hermione asked slowly. From what she saw, this girl was normal.

The girl smiled, "Only witch. I didn't know what I was, but I could do things, strange things. Now I know they were actually magical things."

"You're muggleborn?" Hermione said.

"That's what Madam said. I always thought I was special but my parents didn't." The girl's voice got small as she added, "They didn't want me once they found out and dropped me off somewhere."

Hermione gasped, stopping the two them in their tracks. The little girl stared down at her feet, not wanting to let her new friend see her tears. Hermione crouched down to look in the little girl's face. "How old were you?"

"Five," the girl squeaked out. Hermione just hugged her and as the little girl sobbed into her shoulder. "I'm trying to be a big girl but I can't stop crying about it. I don't understand why they left me."

Hermione hushed the girl, holding her tightly, trying to let her feel loved. The girl sniffled once, twice, before dragging a hand across her nose and pulling out of Hermione's embrace. She gave Hermione a watery, hopeful smile. "But Madam saved me. Madam told me about myself. And now I can be smart and powerful like her. And I have people who like that I'm a witch." Hermione smiled back and ruffled the girl's cropped hair. Then the girl grabbed her hand and said, "I want to introduce to the others," before continuing in their initial direction.

_**:::MQ:::**_

Hermione was standing in a large dining hall but unlike any she had been in before. She was expecting luxury and splendour, large windows and long drapes, exquisite portraits of important figures. But from what she saw of Her, She didn't seem like someone like that. So Hermione shouldn't have been surprised when the room felt cozy and homey. Everyone knew everyone it seemed and there was always a warm greeting being heard. Although there were so many people, the room wasn't 'crowded'. There was laughter and loud shouting as adults, teens and children, dined with one another around the many round tables in the room. Food from various parts of the world were placed on tables on the sides and often, a person would rise from their seat to refill their plate.

The little girl pulled Hermione to the side were she had seen a few girls her own age. "Hi! Meet my new friend! She's new!" the little girl exclaimed. Hermione gave them all a small wave and was surprised when they all came around her and hugged around the waist and legs.

She stood there awkwardly, their weight threatening to pull her down and did not notice when a group of three girls about her age had walked over. The front one said, "Sarah, why don't you have lunch with the other girls? We'll take care of your new friend while you're away."

Hermione's little friend nodded before saying goodbye, all her friends chorusing and then they ran off. After regaining her balance, Hermione turned to the girl before her. "Hello, thank you for that. I'm Hermione," she said, extending her hand.

"Penelope," the girl said and introduced her friends, Katherine and Danielle. She led Hermione to a quiet table in the corner of the large room and Penelope introducing her to two older women.

They all took a seat before one of the older women, Martha, asked, "So Hermione, what brings you here into our midst?"

Hermione cleared her throat, "I was rescued and-."

Danielle's eyes widened, "Madam rescued you? Like those girls from the other night. Why didn't you come in with them?"

"What girls?" Hermione asked. These were the first people she had seen besides Her, her guard and the mediwitch.

"I guess they weren't with you then," Penelope said. She tipped up a bit and pointed to a bunch of tables a few over where many girls were sitting, all of various ages and races. Hermione spotted her little friend at one of the tables laughing loudly amongst her friends. "Those girls were being kept as slaves, some by purebloods, others by just horrible men."

Katherine whispered scandalously into Hermione's ear, "Not just men. I heard there was a woman who enjoyed beating on the little girl she had."

Penelope continued, "From what Madam explained, she found them and freed them from their captors. Some decided to stay here but there were a few who decided to go off on their own."

Katherine said with a smile, "They should have chosen here. It's nice."

Hermione asked, "You like it here?"

Danielle smiled, "What's not to like? Madam loves us, she cares for us, feeds us. I can talk to her about anything. Oh, I should visit her tonight and show her my new painting!"

Martha said to the excitable young girl, "Calm down, Danielle. You know she's a busy person, so don't get your hopes up. But tell Jenna first and I'm sure Madam will find you afterwards." Then she said to Hermione, "That's how Madam is. She makes time for us, she cares for us and treats us like her own family, and only asks that we treat her like she's ours, which I feel wholeheartedly. No one has ever done more for me than she has."

Janet, the woman on Martha's right, said, "You'll like it here, Hermione. I hope nothing terrible happened to you before Madam rescued you."

"I was walking in London when a strange man kidnapped me and wanted to sell me to a pureblood. She came just in time, just when the deal was being done," Hermione said slowly, placing her hands onto the table. "I am honestly grateful that she came when she did. I don't want to think about what could have happened if she hadn't."

"You could talk those girls. I know not many people like to talk about it, or even hear about it, but it does help. Trust me," Penelope said, before reaching for her pumpkin juice.

"How did you get here?" Hermione asked, honestly curious.

"Abusive boyfriend with prejudice parents." Penelope said nonchalantly. "He liked keeping me around but his parents started to crack down on him, so he did the only thing he could think of." She pulled down the collar of shirt to show Hermione a long scar across her throat, "he gave me this before dumping my body in the woods. Madam found me, gave me the same choice of staying here or going back out there. I never wanted to face him again after what he did and I had no family of my own to speak of. That was two years ago and I've never regretted it. Owe the woman my life."

"I had two sons who supported me since I'm unable to work," Janet said before pointing down to her leg. "This is a gift from Madam, much better than the prosthetic I used to have. They worked in the muggle world though they were wizards, and there was an attack at their bank. Madam said it was a random act of destruction, but I still lost my two sons that day. She offered me a place here and I gladly accepted. I do miss my boys often. You should stop by my room. I always love to show people pictures but everyone here has already seen them."

"Three times," Penelope threw in and the other occupants of the table laughed.

Danielle returned to the table, Hermione not even realizing she had left, and placed a glass of pumpkin juice in front of her. Hermione thanked the girl and took a sip. Danielle smiled back before saying to Martha, "Jenna said Madam is busy tonight, but I can see her tomorrow night."

Martha placed a kind hand on Danielle's arm, "That's wonderful, dear. That means you get to show me tonight."

Danielle laughed and said, "Sure, all of you are welcome to stop by tonight."

Hermione was having fun sitting with these women as they shared their stories with her. They were either muggle, halfblood or muggleborn, and in all cases, their stories led back to some form of pureblood prejudice or mindless destruction. It was horrible what had to happen to all of them for their paths to cross at this point.

During their conversation, Hermione had gotten her own plate and was eating when she had an odd question, "Where are all the boys?"

The younger girls laughed, causing Hermione to blush. Martha chuckled and explained, "We're in the girls' dining hall, which is on the ground floor of the girls' quarters. The boys' have their own hall and quarters, and married couples as well. Since Frank is busy today in the greenhouses, I came to have lunch with Janet and the girls."

Upon Hermione's confused expression, Penelope explained, "We have different jobs to do around the compound. We tend to the greenhouses, the orchards, the stables, the factories. Some persons help with the meals, take care of the children, clean the rooms. Some people work at the other settlements. And some persons work outside, like some of the muggles. I'm actually supposed to head back to the poitions lab. I think my cauldron should be done simmering now."

Hermione nodded as Penelope left. She had learnt so much from just sitting here for the past hour and from their stories and their words, she couldn't help but start to fall in love with Her as well. She had inspired and given new life to these women. They had a bad past which would have led to a worse future, in Penelope's case she would have died, but She had turned it around. They were happy and they felt free. It was hard to hate someone who changed the lives of many for the better. It was hard to hate someone whose unfavourable methods seemed to reaping real rewards.

There was a small voice on her right and Hermione looked down to see her little friend. The girl greeted everyone at the table before smiling at her, "Want to meet my friends?"

Hermione excused herself and followed the little girl to the bunch of tables Penelope had pointed out. As she walked by, Hermione looked closely at these girls: their nervous motions, their long clothes though the room was very warm, but they were all smiling and there was a new light in their tired eyes. Sarah, Hermione remembered, pulled out a chair for her to sit at between herself and a girl that was Hermione's age, who smiled at her shyly while fidgeting with the ends of her blouse.

"So I'm Sarah. That's Joannie, Ashley and Ruth," Sarah introduced, and Hermione introduced herself. Then Hermione turned to the girl beside her, "What's your name?"

"Melissa," she said quietly, drawing the sleeve her blouse down a bit lower.

"What happened to you before you were brought here?" Hermione asked softly. These girls had been bartered like she had been and a sick curiosity came over her to find out what would have happened and what happened to these girls.

The girl swallowed and pushed her plate away. She fiddled with her hands for a moment before she said, "I was 10 years old and walking with my parents in London when someone kidnapped me in broad daylight and sold me to Mr Thwaites. I was unwashed, underfed and abused. He did horrible things to me, horrible things to the other girls. If we disobeyed, we were tortured, beaten or raped. So all of us did exactly what we were told but sometimes, even that wasn't enough. He would still do those things because he could or he would give us to his... colleagues. One girl died when Mr Thwaites went too far and we had to remove her from the room so the night wouldn't be 'ruined'. That was my life and I knew I would die that way, just like that girl. But then Madam came. Well not her personally, but she sent people. They ran through the house, it was just us and our master, and they took us away from him. I've been given new life, a life I never imagined possible and I owe it all to her."

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. She didn't know about this underground market of human-trafficking. She had heard about it on the telly but never knew just how close it was to home. She would have become just another victim, another lost soul, and no one would have even known.

"Joannie was also with me, and she's 10 like I was. Ashley and Ruth were in the same place, and Sarah was on her own. We all have similar stories which we all don't like talking about. But Madam says it's good to talk about it, especially with those who understand and have been through it. It will help us get closure and help us to move forward without focusing on the past," Melissa explained.

She pushed herself away from the table and held out her hands to the girls. "Excuse me, Hermione, but I have to take these girls to their group therapy session. Part of my therapy is to help out the younger kids."

Sarah ran over and hugged Hermione, "See you later, Hermione."

**_:::MQ:::_**

"This meeting will now be called to order," Grant said as he banged the gavel, a hush falling over those in attendance. He stood at the podium on her right and would act as the coordinator of the events and ensure all matters were heard and addressed. She nodded at Grant and he started, "First matter to discuss: The Potions Lab."

Pauline, the head potion master, stood and said, "Ingredient stock is at 60%. We are awaiting the latest pickings from the greenhouses before moving forward. Those who were sent out for ingredients outside of the compound should be returning today. Ingredients gotten from the other settlements are also being collected today. All the new potioneers have been greatly improving with help from our more experienced members. We have been distributing the finished products to the different settlements to ensure their stocks are filled in time of emergency. As in the instance with the giants, many of their potions were used after the attack, so we currently have a few persons working specifically to refill their supplies." She nodded and Graham made a note of Pauline's report and took the written details from her hand.

"The greenhouses?" Grant called out.

William, the head of the greenhouses, stood and said, "We have been monitoring and adjusting the greenhouse conditions accordingly. As the climate gets warmer, we have to pay closer attention to the plants that thrive in colder climates. As Pauline said, we are ready to send them a new batch of ingredients by tomorrow. We will require a few things, some of our equipment has broken and we need additional pots and lots. These are stated in the report. We also want to open another aquaculture area near Sector M3 to increase the harvest of water plants." She took the report from Graham and scanned it with her eyes before signing the bottom and handing it back.

"The settlements?" Grant asked.

Lawrence was the head of the board of settlements who all sector leaders reported to. He stood and said, "I have submitted each of the individual reports of the different sectors, some having their own personal queries and complaints. There is also a bit of personal messages to you, Madam. The reports generally cover the status of their farmlands, food supplies and happiness. It also mentions the quality of their defensive and offensive forces should there be need. I have included a list of recommendations regarding that matter."

She took the pile, putting her personal letters to the side, and first reading the armies' statuses and recommendations. She made a note at the bottom, signing it and then said, "Please work with Bryant and Carlton in organizing these drills and I'll want a progress and assessment afterwards. Then, I will come to test them myself." She handed the paper back to Graham and then asked, "How are the accommodations for the Veelas going? Are preparations under way for their ceremony?"

Lawrence nodded, "Things are going according to plan. We have set up the settlement in a quaint village in Spain, only accessible to the Veelas and anyone else you permit, Madam. Everything should be done in time for the ceremony. Jenna and Marie are in charge, as per usual. And David will have his notes ready for you in time." She nodded once more, smiling at Lawrence kindly as he took his seat.

Grant continued, "Magical creatures?"

This time two persons stood, each handing their reports over to Graham. The first, a large strapping man named Rolf said, "The dragons are fine, giving our handlers some nasty burns. The acromantulas are fine as well. We are drawing some the venom now for the potions lab. Hippogriffs, Threstrals and Unicorns are fine, getting plenty of exercise pulling the ploughs and tilling the soil."

The shorter man with greying hair piped in, "But we are having problems with the Dementors and the lethifolds. The dementors stay to themselves, very useful, but they grow hungry. We need to have better control over them or they'll begin to swoop down on the settlements they're guarding. For now, we are using the soul supplements from the potions labs but they are either becoming immune or developing a dislike for them.

As for the lethifolds, they are getting harder to control. There have been disappearances in the Caribbean countries and the muggles are getting frightened. I propose that we round them up and move them elsewhere, or get rid of them permanently. Our handlers are ready to carry out any course of action you decide."

It was hard to bond with creatures as they were of simpler minds than humans. They could only be domesticated but not fully obedient and acted on instinct, especially amortal creatures. The dementors and the lethifolds would definitely have to be dealt with. She said, "If all issues are detailed in the reports you submitted, I will look them over and make my decision by the end of the day."

"International affairs?" Grant asked.

This time Matthew stood up, "We will be visiting a pack of werewolves in Australia next week and they have confirmed our arrival. They have been having some problems with hunters in the area and we think we can provide them some protection. Patrick and Thomas will soon be completed with all preparations. The rest of the team is currently in Africa, specifically South Africa, Kenya and Tanzania, just to keep the peace and look out for suspicious activity."

"Any other matters?" Grant asked as he looked about the room.

An older woman stood up in the back, passed her report forward to Graham, and then said, "The British Ministry of Magic seems to be getting a bit suspicious of your activities. They've sent Aurors out to various locations, some very close to the settlements, but have reported nothing back.

She nodded and then said to the woman, "Deidre, I need you to continue scoping out the Ministry. Instruct your team to do the same in the other Ministries. But I need you to find out some information on a particular organization: the Order. I have reason to believe they have an active interest in my endeavours."

The woman nodded, "I will assign my team and produce a report as soon as possible."

She nodded and then turned to Graham who was sorting the reports into a binder for her. She had a lot of homework to go through tonight, and everything needed an answer or a decision before any of her plans could continue.

She looked up at Grant who nodded and said, "Meeting adjourned. Let us retire to the dining room for lunch." They all rose and filed out of the meeting room, the attendees in the lead and she, Matthew and Patrick lagging behind.

The tiredness in her face must have shown because Patrick came beside her and put a hand under her arm for support. "Are you okay, Madam?" he asked concernedly.

She nodded somewhat distractedly, the binder in her hand suddenly feeling heavier than before. There was just so much to do, so much responsibility that no one but her could do. Most of her days when she stayed mostly to the compound, all her grudges would disappear. All the pain and hatred within her heart went unnoticed and she felt almost normal. She forgot how much power she had as she sat in her small living quarters. She was surrounded by all these smiling faces who would greet and embrace her in the halls. Her family that she had always wanted.

But there were days like this when the façade of a family would break, when the weight of everything she had done, was doing and had to do would crash down on her shoulders. She would realize she was actually the leader of a growing army, a large force ready to wreak havoc. She had the power to send them into the battle when needed and to protect the entire group as one.

She took a deep breath and did the only thing she realized helped in this situation: she brought the rage that fuelled this all in the beginning to the surface. The thought of those purists would unearth the feelings again and she would find the strength within her to right the wrongs she believed existed in this world.

"Lu?" Matthew asked on her right. She still hadn't said anything and she looked up at him with wild eyes, causing him to take a step back.

"I'm fine," she snapped. "I need to attend to these immediately. And then I want to talk to David about the fealty ceremony. There are some things I want added to the agenda."

She started to walk quickly towards the door, the dark thoughts swirling within her mind, but Patrick pulled her back. "Madam, do you remember how you felt after the last ceremony? Do you remember Thwaites?" he asked, giving her knowing look, his eyes begging her to reconsider whatever plans she had to tell David.

She shuddered a bit at the memory and then spat, "I remember the feeling of vengeance extracted. I remember the feeling of justice served. I remember the feeling of ridding the world of another one of those wretched swine!"

"You remember how you rubbed your skin raw and screamed because you could still see the brain matter on your arm? You remember how you avoided the ballroom and the parlour room because you could still see the red stain on the marble?" Patrick pleaded. He could see the toll such devastating events within just a few weeks was doing on her.

"I need to do this, Patrick! My dreams won't come true if some sacrifice is not made. If their blood must cover my hands, then I will wash my hands vigorously. If their brains paint my walls, I will clean them. If they are swallowed up by the Earth, I will plant flowers over their graves. But I will continue to follow my dreams and do what needs to be done!"

"Lu, you are running yourself ragged!" Patrick shouted, grabbing both her arms and getting in her face. The binder fell from her hands, a few unsecured pages flying out. The silence was deafening, like the calm before a storm. She stood there with her eyes wide and her mouth open, too awestruck by Patrick's raised voice, his breath practically on her face and his use of her nickname.

This was all too much. She couldn't do this. She just couldn't do this. She believed in her cause, and she knew what needed to be done. If she didn't do it, no one else would. She pulled from his grasp hysterically, stumbling slightly. Matthew came forward, his arms held out to catch her if she should fall but she pushed away from him too.

She pointed at them accusingly, her other hand clutching tightly near the base of her neck as if she were choking. Her voice was hoarse as she tried to keep the tears in check, "I have to do this! This is the way! This is the solution!" She pointed down at the discarded reports, "These will set things into motion, great extraordinary things and bring us closer to our goal."

"You're not being fair to yourself, or to anyone else, if you run yourself ragged trying," Patrick said softly. She rarely got this way. For as long they knew her, she was always kind, loving and calm, always looking on the brighter side. They hated to see her so worked up, so broken up. They had to calm her down.

But that wasn't working. She shouted, "Life isn't fair, Patrick! Matthew, you know this! You were there at the orphanage! You know what life truly is."

The damn burst as tears streamed down her face. She had told them about her whole life: her birth parents, the orphanage, her foster parents, Hogwarts, Jaime, everything. They had heard everything, been there for parts, but they didn't know just how horrible it had been to actually live her life.

Her hands flew to her face, her sobs echoing off the walls of the meeting room, before she ran out blindly, leaving her important documents behind.

* * *

Lucille would have nightmares, the events in her past haunting her subconscious mind. They had been going on for years, however she would continue her days as if nothing was wrong. She would try to be her usual smiling self and brush aside any looks or words of concern directed at her. She hated worrying Matthew and Patrick over what she considered 'silly dreams'.

But recently, they were occurring more frequently. They wouldn't leave her and she couldn't shake them, even after waking. Maybe it was because of the attack, maybe it was because of losing Jaime, maybe it was because of her strange feelings towards Matthew, but everything had changed. She just didn't feel the same. She felt small. She felt lower than dirt. She felt utterly helpless. She hadn't felt this way since-

There was a flash of a memory of a little girl cowering her room, willing her breathing to be louder than the screams coming from the room across the hall so she wouldn't have to hear them. Her little heart thumping against her ribcage at the speed of a hummingbird's. The dread and fear that those screams would soon come from her own little throat if the boys' attention should ever stray from the main event. It was this memory that had followed her for almost twenty years, this memory which manifested and recreated itself in her nightmares - the boys morphing into the monsters she genuinely believed them to be.

She lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, Matthew's soft snores coming her right. Those boys were men now in their late-40s. They must have forgotten about that muggle couple years ago, probably the same night as they drank themselves into a stupor. They never even knew she existed, but she was losing sleep over those monsters.

She rolled over to face Matthew who slept peacefully beside her. He had been trying to reach out to her, to hold her close and keep her safe, but she just couldn't. Even after she had ended the engagement about two years ago, he never left her side, not for a moment. She wanted to love him as she did before, she wanted to feel free as she did before, but the attack and her loss had broken her and brought back a past she had tried to forget. These feelings, these thoughts, these memories were eating her away inside. He didn't have these kinds of nightmares and he didn't wake up in the night unable to go to sleep. She reached out to him, her hand brushing along his spine. She wished she were like him but her life hadn't happened that way.

She needed some form of closure, something to stop the nightmares so she could move forward. She would need to complete the chapters of her life that had been left unwritten in the sloppiest script. She would write an ending different from what they intended.

It had taken her a couple months to the get the information she needed before she felt confident enough to carry out her plan. During this time, the nightmares had thankfully decreased, her focus on the task at hand giving her more power within the trappings of her mind. She had poured over the books, she asked of the least expected and she had even gone back to the Abbots' mansion, anything that may give her something to use against them.

But tonight was the night. Matthew was asleep, slumbering softly, as she spirited away and apparated out to the middle of a field in Surrey. From the Abbots' business documents, the boys, Albert and Adam Prince, had lived in the family mansion all their lives. Although being wealthy pureblood men, they never married, preferring the odd fling and keeping the money to themselves. Based on her questions, she deduced the best time to visit them when they would be home alone and most likely plastered. Based on her readings from her books, she had worked out a way to get into the mansion to do what she had to and get out before being detected. She would just have to move swiftly.

She placed the Abbot family ring on her finger, the same one that was in the top drawer of Marissa's dressing table, and walked up towards the house. Taking a deep breath, she stepped across the perimeter of the wards and waited. The same sound of crying crickets and the light breeze met her ears - no sirens, no flashes of light aimed at her stomach. She let out the breath and walked quickly. Now, they at least knew they had a visitor. She followed the instructions from her books, detecting and removing any other wards set out to prevent someone like her from getting to their front door. Every spell and second following was harrowing, the consequences told were not pleasant.

But soon she found herself right outside their huge black doors, wondering how they had not come to greet their visitor, one of the Abbots they had not seen in so long. She opened the door quickly and peered into the large home. All the candles were snuffed out and she held her wand to guide her way. She had to find them quickly. She headed in the direction of their bedrooms in the West Wing, watching over her shoulder for any surprises.

Soft sounds came from behind two doors and she pushed the first open slowly. The dim light she could barely make out the shapes of furniture but she could already tell they were custom-made. Long drapes blocked any light that may have come the outside. Against the wall in the large, overstuffed bed was a large hulking frame and she went up to it cautiously. Standing on the side of the bed, she held her wand out. He was very fat, the jowls of his cheeks falling onto his pillow, drool dampening the fabric. He was still in his evening robes, not even bothering to change before throwing himself on the bed. His hair was long and mussed from turning against the pillow. Even though this man was older, she was sure he was one of the boys. The one who wondered if a woman's ankles could reach her ears before something snapped. Her mind ran wild with all the possibilities of what she could do to this man, for him to know just how much she had suffered because of his boredom one night. But there was no time for that right now. She came here with a plan and she would go through with it. Anything she did here would draw attention. She put him under a deep sleep before entering his brother's room.

Adam was awake, though barely. He sat in a chair facing the grounds behind the house, his hand shakily holding a tumbler of aged whiskey. He looked just like his older brother, lovely black hair, sizeable cheeks but still possessing a striking visage. This was the younger brother who practically eviscerated her father's abdomen. He looked at her strangely, both of them bathed in the blue light of her wand, and slurred, "I thought the Abbots were here... You're not Murissa." She came up to him quickly and he sniffed the air around him. Even drunk, he was able to adopt the familiar sneer she had seen on all purebloods' faces. His voice rose angrily but was still weighed down by the liquor, "What's a mudblood doing with the Abbot ring?" Then he was knocked out, the tumbler shattering at his feet.

She levitated the two bodies behind her back to the foyer, their wands in hand. There was slight noise and she froze before seeing a small house-elf stick her head from a small door. A bright blue eye peered at her and Lucille smiled before whispering, "Thank you, Pipsy." The house-elf smiled before closing the door behind her.

She ran back to the edge of the wards, hoping that they hadn't suddenly reset over time or upon noticing their indisposed casters. Once on the outside its borders, with Adam's wand, she replaced them herself, cast a spell to blow all the doors in the manor closed and then apparated with two dead weights, the traces of her magic leaving with her.

She brought the two men back to the Abbots' mansion. She didn't want them in her own home, especially with Matthew there, and she had nowhere else that was secret. She thought back to her research, going over everything she had done and hoping that the spells had really been untraceable as they had said. It would be horrible if this were linked back to her. But she knew from experience that this kind of magic was made specifically to be untraceable and thorough. She knew here no magic could be traced. That fact helped Abbots get away with many things within these walls.

She turned back to the men before her, restrained and still snoozing and smile graced her face. She revived them and was welcomed with foggy snorts and blinking eyes. With a kind smile, she said, "Hello, Mr. Prince and Mr. Prince."

Two sets of eyes focused on her, a small blonde haired woman who glowed in the low light of the floating candles around and the hanging chandelier above. They looked down at themselves, thick ropes bound around their wrists, ankles and torsos and securing them each to a wrought iron dining chair. With his eyes piercing hers, black holes that were trying to throw daggers into her soul, Adam screamed, "You mudblood cunt! What have you done to us? Why do you have the Abbot ring?"

Lucille laughed prettily, "Am I not an Abbot, Mr Prince, if not by blood, then by name? What I have done is not as important as what I am about to do."

Albert snarled and Lucille was reminded of a rabid dog with its fur on end. He commanded, "Release us at once woman and we won't call the authorities."

Lucille said, "You're hardly in a position to do that, Mr Prince. You are unarmed, immobile and unlocatable. No authorities will come to your rescue."

The older brother said, "Someone will come looking for us. Someone will realize we are not home."

Lucille said, "No one will look for you for a long time so this will give us time to get to know each other."

She cast a spell at each of the brothers, the blue ball of energy flying straight into their hearts. They could feel a chill travel through their bodies, from their hearts to their extremities. Teeth clattered as they shook in their bonds, watching the smiling girl who seemed unfazed by their discomfort.

She watched as they started to turn blue, their skin darkening and their shallow breaths visible even in the light. Adam stammered out, "Why are you doing this? We have done you no harm."

A murderous look passed across her face as she stomped up the man, her wand prodding his Adam's apple. "You have done more harm to me than you can even imagine, but I doubt you even remember what you've done. A muggle couple from Little Whining. You stormed their house and did grotesque things, leaving them to die humiliating, agonizing deaths."

Across from them, Albert laughed, the sound stuttered by his chattering teeth. "Oh the muggle couple from Little Whining. The blonde woman with the nice tits and the flabby man. Adam, don't you remember?"

He visibly swallowed as Lucille's wand shot out and pointed directly at his throat, "You shut your fucking mouth." Albert started to gasp, short quick noises as his throat began to tighten. He couldn't take a deep enough breath and the cold water in his veins sapped out any moisture in his mouth. His hands twitched behind his back, wishing to grab at his throat, but there was nothing he could do. His airways were constricted and large dots blinked in and out of his vision.

Adam's eyes flitted to his brother's face before looking into the woman's murderous brown eyes. She hissed, "Do you remember them, Adam?" A warm spot was felt on his throat, the feeling mixing with the cold water flowing through his veins. He was hardly aware of the wheezing noises coming from his brother. His mouth turned into a thin line and heat radiating from the wand spread further. "It would be best to answer me, Adam. And I don't take kindly to liars."

The heat moved across neck and up to his face, travelling around his mouth. His tongue was scalding when he screamed out, "No, I don't remember. That was a long night and I might have been drunk."

The heat stopped travelling but never left where it had reached. His mouth was still burning but she stepped back from him. She looked at the two of them, "You monsters took my parents away me that night, effectively damning me to a living hell. You have made me who I am today and no matter how much I try to move on, to forgive and forget, something has been holding me back. I release myself from these bonds tonight."

The warmth left Adam's face and Albert's airways released, but the cold continued to hold their bodies. She stared at them hard and said, "_You will regret ever visiting Little Whining that night"_.

As she spoke, ice seemed to set in their veins, their body temperatures falling rapidly. Frost formed on their eyelashes and the corner of their mouths. "_You will regret ever breaking into that muggle house._"

Their skin started to strip as the moisture was sapped. Their bodies shivered in vain to produce enough motion to generate heat. _"You will regret every miserable thing you've done in your pathetic lives."_

Their eyeballs stopped moving, their mouth stuck open and their fingers went rigid. Their skin darkened, starting from the toes and fingers and moving inwards. They were practically brain-dead at this point, their organs failing and unable to work under such low temperatures, the water in their blood and cells freezing solid, their brain but floating ice cubes in their skulls. The last thing they heard before everything shut down, _"You will regret ever upsetting me."_

Their hearts stopped and Lucille hoped their souls, if they had one, had froze inside them. In her last act of rage, she aimed her wand at the frozen corpses, '_Confringo_' and blasted them into pieces.

She returned home at 3 in the morning, her heart still racing, her skin cold despite Matthew's warm embrace and unable to sleep, but a weight had definitely been lifted off her shoulders. She had gotten the closure she wanted from those boys. She had done things in efforts to right wrongs done to her. Matthew had done his own part in finding retribution for the innocents that were harmed, her own Jaime. But Lucille still didn't feel like it was enough. It wasn't enough for her and it wasn't enough for others like her until every last one was gone. That night as she lay awake, she began thinking of her grand plan, starting her new family and seeing the world in the way she thought it should be.

* * *

_A/N: So we see Lucille have a bit of a crazy moment right there. She'll get over it because she's strong and she's a fighter. Also, possible title for the flashback: Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold._


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: _I haven't updated in a long time so I hope you haven't forgot what's been happening so far. _A lot of conversations going on in this chapter between a lot of people: the Ministry, _the Order,_ Hermione and the pureblodos, Lucille's family and a small correspondence from the new werewolves. That's a lot of talking. And in the flashback, someone else talks at bit too much as well. Also, I've finally been able to introduce the Malfoys into my story, so you should be seeing more of them to come. RxR. FxF._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

**Chapter 10 - Everybody Talks**

He threw the newspaper onto his desk, uncaring if it caused other things to fall off the side. Rowle was another 'missing' pureblood to add to the list. He opened the file his aide had placed on his desk. It was filled with the faces of the other disappearances, and Fudge would be crazy if he didn't connect the dots.

"Who knows about this?" Fudge asked the two Aurors before him.

Franklin on the left said, "Everyone thinks he's just missing. But currently only you and our squad know that it's more than that."

"And we still have no leads?" Fudge shouted, spittle flying out of his mouth as he slammed his fists on his desk.

"We just can't trace it. The place is clean when we get there. No fingerprints, magical traces, nothing. The man disappears and then is presumably dead," Franklin said shaking his head.

Peterson spoke up though, "We have been analyzing the disappearances though, trying to find some sort of trend between all the information we've gathered from interrogations. Besides the fact that they're all old purebloods, we've tracked the first one to the disappearance of the Princes. When we investigated them, they were involved in many bad things."

Fudge looked at Peterson and then thought to himself, placing his hand on his chin. "But you cannot investigate further without slandering the Princes' name."

Peterson nodded and Fudge fumed. They had taken that blood money, as well as others, a long time ago. All pureblood crimes and misgivings would be swept under the rug for every 'generous donation'. All those reports and files were locked away safely and not be seen by anyone. But as the Minister, Fudge had permission to view and review the details. He nodded and said, "I will find the Princes' files and investigate further. Do we know of future incidents?"

Franklin shook his head again, "There is no obvious link between these people, so we cannot predict the next one."

Fudge searched through his drawer and handed the men a directory. "Inform those on this list that they may be in danger and to take caution. We may need to have Aurors visit every now and again, just to make sure things are fine. We might even be lucky to find something important."

They nodded and turned to leave his office. Franklin pushed open the door and was surprised to find Lucius Malfoy standing there, with his son Draco. The blonde haired man sneered at the two men exiting before approaching Fudge.

Fudge's eyes widened in fear, the stern look from the imposing man causing him to shake in his boots. He nervously gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. "How can I help you, Mr Malfoy and Master Malfoy?"

Lucius scowled before taking off him gloves and placing them delicately on his lap. The young Malfoy just looked about the office boredly. Lucius drawled, "I hear Rowle is missing."

Fudge took a deep breath and drew a handkercheif to pat his forehead. "Yes, his disappearance is most unfortunate."

Lucius eyed him before saying, "That's another important figure who has mysteriously vanished."

Fudge smiled nervously, "I am as perplexed as you, Mr Malfoy."

Lucius frowned, "Now that is what is most unfortunate. What does it say for us if our leader has no clue what is happening to his people?"

Lucius leaned across the desk and Fudge moved back. Lucius said through gritted teeth, "You are no more than a figure-head, Fudge. It's people like us who fund your business who are really in charge. So if you want to keep your position and your notoriety, then you will put an end to these disappearances. Those of us who matter can't constantly be watching over our shoulders in case we are the next victim. So it would be in your best interest to actually send people out and actively attack the problem instead of idly sitting by."

Fudge swallowed and said, "Yes, Mr Malfoy, of course. There are some Aurors on the case now."

Lucius leaned back but did not seem very pleased with Fudge's response. "I have two matters I would like to address now. First," Lucius said as he dug into his robe. "I would like to make a 'generous donation' to ensure the safety of my family."

He placed the large silk pouch on the Minister's desk, the gold coins glinting through the spaces of the fabric. Fudge leaned forward hungrily but Lucius held up his cane to stop him.

"My second matter is that my son will be installed here at the Ministry. He will be my ears and eyes to ensure you are actually making progress with your investigation," Lucius continued as his son grinned widely. Fudge looked at the boy and felt a bit uneasy.

With the cane still between Fudge and the bag, Lucius asked, "Do we have an agreement, Mr Fudge?"

Fudge looked into both Malfoys' faces and then nodded, "Yes, Mr Malfoy."

The Malfoys rose and Lucius said, "I will be going now. Please, guide my son through the proceedings here. Make sure no information is left out as he will be reporting to me by the end of the day."

Lucius walked to the door and opened it to see a small cleaning lady standing outside the door. She made small scream as the taller man sneered at her before striding past. Upon seeing Fudge's face, she quickly ran away as well.

Fudge turned towards the young man. He resembled his father so much, though his features were softer. Fudge could only hope his personality was as well. Then the teen grinned and that same unease washed over Fudge. Now the Minister would take orders from a stuck-up teen. Great.

**...oOo...**

"We need to find Hermione," Harry pleaded to his parents across the table. He had been trying to get them to do something proactive, but every time they would shoot him dow.

"We can't do anything until we have some type of evidence, Harry. You know this," his mum said.

"I've sent her a dozen owls and it's been three days. She wouldn't just ignore me if something wasn't wrong," Harry said.

"If she is in danger, then we don't want to do the wrong thing by acting impulsively. We need to have a discussion with everyone before we take any action," James said.

"But Mum! Dad!" Harry said.

"No, Harry. Just wait until," Lily began but then the doors to the dining room opened and the rest of the Order filled in. The meeting tonight would be held in the Potters' house.

They all took a seat around the table before Dumbledore asked, "Why have you called the meeting so soon, James?"

"Well, Harry has-" James began but Harry suddenly stood up and shouted, "Hermione's missing!" With the glare from his mother, Harry added, "Sir."

Dumbledore just stood there in silence and asked, "What are your suspicions, Harry."

Harry shrunk a bit, not actually expecting the older man to direct his questions at him, but then he stood up a bit straighter. This was for his best friend. "She was supposed to meet us a few days ago and never showed up. Since then, me, Ron and Ginny have been sending her owls that return with the letters still attached. The owls cannot find her, Professor Dumbledore."

"Most interesting," the old man muttered. "Owls are very smart creatures able to find anyone anywhere as long as there's airspace to fly."

"But where would Hermione be that doesn't have air? Even if she's underground, what's she doing there?" Harry asked.

"Hmmm," Dumbledore pondered before lifting his wand. A thin wisp of smoke emitted from its tip before it morphed itself into a transluscent phoenix which flapped its wings and hovered before the old man. He spoke clearly to the apparition, "Please find Hermione Granger."

Everyone waited for the phoenix to fly off and disappear through the air, but it just floated and stared at its master confusedly. Dumbledore waved his wand and the phoenix disappeared, "Most interesting indeed. Ms Granger is somewhere not even a patronus can reach."

"Only She could have magic strong enough to fool an owl and a patronus!" Harry shouted. All eyes in the room darted to the young boy who did not falter under their stare. He stood by what he believed in. "Who else would want to hide her?"

"But Harry, that doesn't make any sense," Sirius said while putting a hand on his godson's shoulder. "Why would She want Hermione? From what we know, She only kidnaps purebloods."

"I don't know," Harry said, finally calming down and looking away from his godfather. He said, "I don't know why She would want Hermione. Maybe because she's smart or she knows about the Order or something."

Everyone sat in silence for a moment, all waiting for Dumbledore's opinion. But then Frank spoke up and asked, "Where did you say she was before was supposed to meet with you and your friends?"

"Muggle London buying books and other things," Harry said.

"Dumbledore, there were reports of a large explosion there the other day. An old building fell to the ground. The Muggles had been waiting for it to drop any second so there was just a small investigation and they thought nothing of it and moved on," Frank explained.

"Could be a coincidence but it wouldn't hurt to investigate," Dumbledore said.

Alastor slammed his hand on the table, "That's a waste of resources, Dumbledore. We should send everyone back out to find more valuable information instead of wasting it parading around London. The girl's probably just gone off with her parents."

"No!" Harry shouted. "She wouldn't just do that. Hermione's my friend and I know she's in trouble. I have this horrible feeling."

James stood with Sirius on his right, "Don't worry, Moody, Harry, we'll go and check it out. We were 'off-duty' anyway, so we have loads of free time." Harry looked at the two men gratefully. "Would you like to come along?" James offered his son.

"Now, that's settled. We can discuss a few more things and meet back again at the scheduled time," Dumbledore said as James, Sirius and Harry left the room.

**...oOo...**

Hermione walked about the compound. She had been to almost every place she could get to. She went to the potions lab with Penelope and learnt so much about the different potions used by all the inhabitants across the settlements. She headed down to the stables where a worker named Mark showed her the threstrals and the hippogriffs. She went to the greenhouse where she handled wild and exotic plants with exceeding care. Apparently She was very particular about her plants. She ran around everywhere just seeing and learning, and she couldn't deny that she was liking the place more and more. There was just so much to do and so many people who were always smiling and laughing. Everyone was happy and that made her happy too. She hung with Penelope and Katherine, she would talk to Janet and Martha who introduced her to Frank who was the friendliest, most hardworking man she'd met. She hung out with Sarah and her little friends. She even sat in a few therapy sessions. Now those were hard to sit in. She cried as the other girls told her story, almost feeling out of place because she did have her own story to share. She felt she didn't deserve to sit in the same room as those who were hurting so bad. But they were healing and they welcomed her with open arms.

But today she wanted to visit a new place. She had separated from the group, telling them that she had to get something from her room to show them. She still had a few more corridors and hallways to search and she wanted to know more.

"Miss, what are you doing down here?" a small voice asked and she turned to see Lotty holding a tall pile of towels in her arms.

"Oh, hi Lotty, how are you?" Hermione asked with a smile.

Lotty smiled and said, "Lotty is fine, miss. Just replacing towels. But what are doing down here?"

Lotty eyed her strangely and Hermione slightly froze. She couldn't tell the small elf that she was snooping about. But then she had an idea on how to slightly stretch the truth. "The other girls told me that Madam also takes in those who have hurt her. I want to find some closure by speaking to the one that hurt me," Hermione said slowly.

The house-elf looked a bit confused and Hermione continued, "Can you take me to talk to the purebloods?"

Lotty's eyes widened, "No, miss, I cannot. The purebloods are not to be spoken to by anyone except Madam's guards. No one else can see them."

Hermione pleaded with the elf, "Please Lotty. I lie awake at night crying. I need this to heal."

The elf looked torn. Hermione could see it behind her big green eyes. She would be going against orders but she couldn't stand to see Hermione in distress. The elf placed the towels on the ground and extended a hand out to Hermione. "We will only go there for five minutes." Hermione nodded and grabbed the hand before they disappeared.

The elf reappeared with Hermione outside a small oak door. On both sides, two guards stood looking at them strangely. They looked down at the nervous looking elf. The one on the right asked, "Lotty, what are you doing? Why have you brought someone here."

"I'm sorry, Sir, but miss needed to speak to someone," the elf said shyly.

"Who?" the guard asked.

The elf looked up at Hermione and she jumped realizing they were all waiting for her to say something. "Madam saved me from being kidnapped by one of them, and I just want to have some form of closure."

The guards looked at each other and then the first said, "Fine, I will take you inside for a moment. Thank you, Lotty." The elf curtseyed before popping away. The guard held open the door and Hermione stepped inside.

**...oOo...**

"Madam, one of your girls is down here wanting to talk to one of the guests. Henry said that John has already led her inside," a little girl in a blue dress said from her portrait. Her sister-frame was down in the holding cells and living quarters and she had been sent to deliver a message.

"Could you ask him which girl, Mary?" she asked, but she already had an idea who it could be.

The girl returned quickly and relayed his message, "Based on the files here in the office, I've identified her as Hermione Granger."

She nodded and said quickly, "Tell him please to just watch her for me. I will not take any action for now. I think this will be good for her." The girl nodded before running off the side of the portrait.

She turned back to her meeting. They had been hashing out the details of the ceremony and the discussions in Australia. Everything had to be perfect for both occasions and there could be no hiccups.

"What was that about, Lu?" Matthew asked as he slightly looked up from the itinerary he was looking over.

"Hermione has gone down to the holding cells," she said calmly as she resumed her spot hovering over some supply lists.

Everyone raised their head to look at her strangely. Only Matthew said, "No one is allowed to go down there. Why haven't you stopped her?"

She shrugged and said, "It will teach her a lot, something that can only be really learnt through self-discovery."

Matthew still looked wary but she fixed him a steady look, "Do you doubt me, Matthew?"

The others looked into Matthew's face, who looked a bit pale before saying, "Never, Lu."

"Good," she said finally. "Let's contine this so we can finish before dinner."

**...oOo...**

It definitely wasn't anything like she was expecting. She was expecting stone walls and dripping ceilings with chained, bloodied and dirtied men and women. This looked more like a recreation centre with bright white walls and a enchanted window giving a view of the grounds beyond. She walked right into a large room that had many different types of equipment for them to use. She saw a few people sitting in the corner smoking cigars and playing wizards chess. The only things that made her still know it was a cell were the guards that were stationed within the room, but the wizards and witches did not care too much about them.

"Do you recognize any of them?" the guard that had let her in asked.

Hermione looked across all their faces and she truly didn't recognize a face. She shook her head and the guard led her further through the room and into another area.

Now this section was more like what she was expecting. A cramped space and much darker, but still not cold and depressing. There were more guards in this room to look over the men and women in here. They were doing many different chores that benefited the compound, and more looked they have never raised a finger before in their life. They all had sour looks on their faces but said nothing as the guards stood over their necks.

"Any of these?" the guard asked again.

She looked about the room to find one man who was arm deep in a basket of clean white linen. He was grabbing each sheet and folding them, grumbling about his lack of wand. Hermione pointed to him and said, "That looks like him."

The guard nodded and she walked over to the disgruntled man. He was wearing a long, stretched out robe which spoke of better days when it was once paraded about at galas. His hair was dirty and sticking out at odd angles, unable to lie flat. He hadn't noticed her at first as she had approached him from behind, but as soon as she was within 5 feet, he spun on her angrily. "Don't touch me!" he shouted.

The guards around her fell into a defensive stance and the other men and women about looked on in interest. Hermione held out her hands in surrender, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to speak to you."

He scrutinized her thoroughly before turning back to his basket and grumbling, "I have nothing to say to you, mudblood."

She frowned and then reached for his hand. "I want to help you," she whispered.

He yanked his hand away for she could make contact. He growled, "Do not touch me with your filth. I don't need help, and I definitely don't need it from you."

"Even stuck down in the dungeons of who knows where, you don't need my help? You think your better than me?" she asked incredulously.

He said solemnly, "Even dead, I'm better than you, mudblood."

She stepped back as if slapped in the face. She hadn't been so outright discriminated against, having hung around nicer people like the Potters, the Weasley and the Order.

"Why are you here, girl?" a woman called out from beside the man. Hermione peaked around to see a tired yet fierce looking woman staring intently at her. She too was wearing a dress that had once belonged in a lovely boutique but was now dirty beyond recognition and tattered at the hem. Her greying brown hair was piled above her head messily, threatening to fall at any moment.

"I just wanted to-" Hermione began, but the woman stopped her with an accusing finger, "You just wanted to see what we've been reduced to. We have become the house-elves of this whole operation. If my father knew that I'd been reduced to catering to blood traitors, muggles and mudbloods, he'd die twice again. Get out of here, mudblood. You're not wanted here."

The man in the basket turned to her evilly, "We all have our stories. Do you want to know why I'm here in the first place? I killed a girl, many girls, just like you, just the same dirty blood as you. I was doing the world a favour by getting rid of them, taking pleasure in just watching the life leave their bodies at my hands. Somehow, that woman found out and took me away without a second thought."

"And you don't think you'd deserved it? You killed many people," Hermione tried to reason.

But the man just blinked at her and then narrowed his eyes, "I did the right thing by eradicating the filth. They are a burden on society. If I were outside, then you would hope to never stand so close to me, girl." She stepped back when she realized that she was exactly within arm's length. His eyes darted to the guards that were still watching the exchange interestingly. She was safe only as long as the guards were here.

"Others were just stolen in the night, but they don't stick around very long. She wants to say she's better than us, but she will never be, if not for her worthless blood, then for her actions. A murderer is a murderer and don't let her tell her she isn't. She gets tired of us sooner or later. She prolongs the inevitable because she is 'loyal' and 'nice'. If she truly hated us, as we do her, we wouldn't even have seen her face before we died," the woman added before spitting on the ground. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stared directly into Hermione's eyes, "Even in a position of power, she's weak, just like all mudbloods."

The other men and women had begun to rally around the conversation, closing on the small girl. Hermione started to panic as they leered at her, each hurling their own creative blood slurs at her. The guards noticed the disturbance and her distress and the guards stepped in to allieve the situation. They raised their wands and all the men and women stood in place, slight tremors racking their bodies. The guard that had led her in walked her out of the room in tears.

**...oOo...**

They had agreed to break for the time being. A lot had gotten done over the last three hours and everyone was definitely feeling the effects. She rose from her chair, the others around her packing up the papers and folders for her to take. She would have to peruse them on her own later. She wanted to know them back to front so she would be well prepared for any circumstance.

They were about to file out the door when Patrick burst through the door. "Madam, a letter," he said, clutching his side.

She looked at him strangely while taking the letter slowly, "Thank you, Patrick. But didn't have to run all the way here with it. You could have left it on my desk."

He shook his head strongly, "No, Madam, it's definitely urgent."

She quirked an eyebrow and then looked down at the envelope. As soon as she did, she understood Patrick's urgency once more. Patrick was not one to overreact to things and this was definitely something that needed to be attended to.

The envelope and letter smelled of a wild, furry animal and the subtle hint of dried blood. She knew that even after the transformation complete, some werewolves stay in a half-state between man and wolf. This was definitely written by one of those as the penmanship was impeccable but there was a slight smudging of a very words as his hand moved across the paper.

She read the note carefully, analyzing the grammar, the word choice, the curvature of the letters and the overall content. Then she looked up and noticed everyone looking at her. They had all stood still, their breaths held, as they waited for whatever urgent news lay ins the letter.

She swallowed and said, "Grayson wants to meet with us in two days here at the compound."

They all turned towards her with their eyes wide. The meeting was supposed to be next week and in Australia. There were still things that needed to be arranged and prepared. The date was much too soon.

She held up her hand and said, "It's just him, not the whole pack. He wants to have a few words about the agreements."

The others relaxed a bit but she hadn't. Patrick noticed her unease and asked, "So what else is so troubling about the message?"

She blinked and then said clearly so they all heard her, "The full moon is going to be that night."

**...oOo...**

Lucille's family was born of love and devotion, and of a common drive to see justice served and the creation of a new and equal world. Everyone trusted everyone to uphold their end of the bargain to keep the family whole. No one spoke of her actions and plans outside of the compound and her settlements, for secrecy was imperative to her dream. Because of the trust and loyalty between her and her family members, there were very little problems within the family. But Lucille can still remember when she had made a few errors by placing her trust in the wrong person.

The first person who had betrayed her after the beginning of her family was a vampire named Andrei. He had been bitten by another vampire at the age of 15 and left for dead in a swamp before he was turned. He began roaming through different towns, trying to be normal but finding it difficult to control his bloodlust. He killed and bit many other people, and soon the towns people were out for his head and searching for him with torches and silver pitchforks. By coincidence, he ran into one of her family who offered him protection and brought him before Lucille. Upon hearing his plight, she welcomed him with open arms and he was very grateful.

Over time, he became haughty, revelling in the protection she offered and using up resources without much contribution to the whole. She watched him with a wary eye but would give him the benefit of the doubt. He didn't know how to love or to be shown love. He just wasn't used to interacting with people or helping out with chores because he had been alone for most of his life and didn't like to talk about himself.

But one day, Andrei decided to talk to someone else, someone who could give him more than she could. He had been speaking to the Ministry, though she was still unsure of who found who. They offered him riches and all the young girls he could bite to fill his bloodlust. They tempted him with the things he felt she couldn't give him. Within her family, he was not 'rich' but he wanted for nothing under her watch. She even developed a blood substitute for him and the other vampire settlements, but that was still not enough to keep him from straying.

She doesn't know exactly how much information was given away but eventually her name must have come up in conversation. She had been actually out visiting the other settlements when she heard a whisper in her ear. The tingle was accompanied by a pull on her heart, and she knew one of her own was saying her name. That was peculiar as everyone within the family called her Madam. She extended her consciousness and travelled the bond that linked her to the offender. She tapped into his mind and saw Ministry officials, their faces smug as they wrote down the vampire's words.

"_She has various different creatures at her disposal... dementors, threstrals, lethifolds,... she also has settlements in France, Spain, Australia..._"

She felt the pang in her heart, the betrayal of another she thought she could trust. She had shown him love and compassion, believed him and protected him when no one else would. The Giants she had been visiting looked at her strangely, for she had been silent for a long time and ignoring their questions. Her eyes flashed and they leaned away from the anger radiating off her in waves.

She worked quickly, and took the vampire under control. His hands rose before him and grabbed the Ministry official's notes and ripped them to shreds. They shouted angrily at the vampire, who in turn was screaming within his own mind wondering why he was acting the way he was. She could not kill the officials however, for that would arouse suspicion. Instead, she raised his hand again once more and cast a memory charm over the room. She couldn't let them get away with whatever they had learnt from this wretched soul.

The officials looked with a dazed look at the vampire, and Andrei still could not understand what came over him. She could hear him thinking and she could feel his fear. She was his memories of his time with her and felt the realization that his disobedience must have triggered something through the bond he made. She felt a small sense of regret but Lucille cared no longer. He would pay for his disobedience and the utter disrespect he had towards her and her family.

She pushed her magic along the bond, causing a surge of energy to shock his brain, similar to a Cruciatus. He screamed out while clutching his ears, the pain driving him slowly to the madness. The officials, who came out of their stupor, were now looking at him with fear, wondering what was happening to him and why there was blood seeping from his nose and his covered ears. But they did nothing to help him. They stood and watched as he thrashed on the floor and his bodily fluids leaked, and that sickened her. Even when a 'subhuman' was in pain, they chose not to help but to watch it die.

She ended it quickly, not wanting to watch their indifference and cruelty any longer. She severed the bond cleanly between her and the vampire. He fell to the floor with his eyes wide open, the blood seeping from his ears, nose and mouth marring their pristine tiles. She felt her heart rip as the bond was broken and she cried out in pain while clutching her chest. The Giants around her rushed to keep her steady and her guards came to her side. She was quickly taken to the infirmary for treatment.

From her own spies within the Ministry, she heard the other side of the story. The Ministry still didn't know who she was but had a bit of information about the missing purebloods. She had been unable to prevent all the information they garnered from leaving the room before she disposed of Andrei. But she would let them think what they wanted and draw their own conclusions from the little knowledge they had. She was still safe and her dream would still come to light regardless of whatever action they took.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: And we are back again. The updates are coming less often and that's totally my fault. I've been getting caught with forum challenges and competitions instead of focusing on my MCs. For that, I'm sorry, readers. You can definitely check out some of those though. I've heard they're good ;)_

_This is a long chapter and a lot of things happen. In this chapter, Harry, James and Sirius have a small lead, Lucille meets with the werewolf Grayson, Fudges investigates the confidential pureblood records with Draco breathing down his neck and Hermione gets to see one of Lucille's fealty ceremonies firsthand. In the flashback, we learn of Lucille's true first dark act. I've been wanting to write this one for a long time and I'm not completely happy with it but I'll live for now._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

**Chapter 11 - There's No Going Back From Here**

"This is what remains of the building that was destroyed," James said as he walked amidst the rubble with his best friend and son. Harry and Sirius began rifling through the stones and debris but found nothing of worth.

James signalled a passing Muggle. "Hello, Sir. Can you tell us what happened here?"

The gentleman was wearing khaki pants and loafers with a matching cap over his thin white hair. He scratched his head a bit before saying, "I think it used to be an abandoned soap factory before the explosion last week."

"Were you here when it exploded?" James asked.

The man shook his head, "No, I was out of the city that day, but I heard from my friend, David, that it was kind of strange. The factory had been abandoned for years and that day it just decided to blow up."

"Definitely strange," Sirius said as he came to stand beside James and join the conversation. "Did he hear anything else?"

The man shook his head, "Sorry I can't say help much."

James smiled, "It's alright. We were just curious. Not everyday you hear about an exploding building."

When the gentleman had left them, James turned to his son, "What do you want to do now, Harry?"

Harry thought and then said, "Hermione came to buy books. Maybe we can find the bookstore and ask them if they know where she might have gone."

* * *

"Oh, that pretty brown-haired girl. She came by here a few days ago and bought a lot of books," the man at the counter said as he bagged another customer's purchases.

"Yes, that sounds like Hermione. Did you know where she was going after?" Harry asked.

"No," the man said as he shook his head, "After that nice woman bought her books, she left the store."

Harry was about to say something when James put a hand on his son's shoulder. He asked, "Did they seem to know each other?"

The man shrugged, "I'm not sure. They seemed very friendly to each other, but that woman was so nice, I felt I knew her even though I never saw her in my life."

"What did she look like?" James asked.

"Long blonde braid, brown eyes, kind of short. But she was just so nice, I don't know how to explain it," the man said.

James and Sirius shared a look before they thanked the man and led Harry out of the store.

* * *

"It doesn't have to be her though, James," Sirius insisted as they walked on the sidewalk among the Muggles. They had been going over the book clerk's description and trying to put the pieces of Hermione's disappearance together.

"It could fit though, Sirius. She's 'nice', almost too nice, and that matches what Dumbledore said she would look like now," James said.

"Who's to say she hasn't changed her appearance since Dumbledore last saw her years ago?" Sirius asked. "And besides, there are countless short, blond-haired, brown-eyed nice women in London. It could have been anyone."

"Hey, are you talking about a short blond woman?" a voice asked them on their right. The group turned to see an old woman standing in the doorway of a small little coffee shop with a broom in hand. They looked around and realized they had ended up back on the street just a few feet away from the demolished building.

"Yes, ma'am. Did you hear anything about one?" James asked.

The old woman nodded, "The other day when the building exploded, I was sweeping out the store just like now, when a group walked past me. It was two men and a short blond woman between them." She pointed up the street, "They all looked very stressed before they ran ahead and ducked into a small alley that used to be there. After they disappeared, the building fell. I was just wondering if you knew if the woman was okay. She seemed so nice, even though she was troubled that day. I wouldn't want to think she got hurt."

James looked at Sirius before he turned back to the woman and said, "We don't know what happened either, ma'am. But thank you for telling us."

* * *

She stood by the window of her study waiting for the arrival of Mr Marcus Grayson. After reading the letter, she and her council had put their plan into action. Grayson thought he may have been smart and intimidating, he thought he could scare the small, blonde woman, but he was sorely mistaken. She wasn't scared of the big bad wolf.

There was a heavy knock at her door and she turned slowly. "Come," she called out as she moved away from the window. It was about to begin and everyone had to play their parts right for it to work, as well as Mr Grayson.

So far he was doing as she expected. He walked into the room in wide, long steps. He was a very tall man with short, spiky black hair on his head and around his jaw and neck. He was very muscular, his hands bigger than her head and he gave her a smirk she was sure would make lesser females swoon. Instead, she just regarded him with a calculating professional gaze.

"Mr Grayson, I was quite surprised to receive your missive two days ago," she said as she walked towards him with her hand extended.

He rose his eyebrow a bit before he pushed her small hand away. He gave her a wide toothy smile, "I had a bit of things to discuss that couldn't wait."

She frowned a bit at the brush off but then said, "Everything was clearly outlined in the initial agreement. We were to discuss details at the scheduled meeting."

He shook his head and said, "These matters are a bit too personal to be discussed in front of many."

"What are these matters?" she asked as she gestured to the large couch against the right wall of the study for him to take a seat.

He sniffed the air and said, "The room is still a bit too... crowded." Grayson walked agitatedly towards the far corner of the room and made a wild swipe, but his hands came upon nothing.

"What are you doing, Mr Grayson?" she asked as she regarded his strange behaviour.

He whirled about and looked at her with wild eyes. He swallowed and said, "Nothing. I thought I... heard something."

"It's you and me in this room, Mr Grayson," she said with a smile as she took the initiative to sit across from the couch.

Grayson scowled at her and gazed about before he said, "I think I'd rather stand, Madam."

She nodded and said, "To each his own." She could still hear him moving about the room as she stared ahead of her. She needed to move this along a bit. "What are the matters, Mr Grayson?" she asked again.

He walked slowly towards her and said, "How can I be so certain of you and your abilities? We have put our trust into other humans and wizards like yourself, and in the end, I have lost a lot of valuable members of my pack."

"Trust me, Mr Grayson, your pack will be taken care of. When you become a part of my family, you become a part of me as well. Your well-being is placed above my own as I put all my family first. I want no ill to befall anyone, so I do everything I can to protect them," she explained.

"But we are not yet 'yours', Madam. So what benefit is there for you to take us in?" he asked as he crossed his arms.

"The benefit for me is not to see those of us who are discriminated against persecuted for something we have no control over," she said with blazing eyes.

He let out a barking laugh, "You care too much, Madam. We can handle ourselves. We don't need your help."

"My reports of the decline of your pack say differently," she said tersely. "What was it? Three of your members taken down in one night."

He scowled as she hit a nerve. "You may not want my help, but you would do well to take it," she said calmly.

He was about to say something to her, possibly some scathing remark about her person, but then there was a pause. She looked over to the small clock on the end table next to her as she felt the shift in the atmosphere behind her. The sudden intake of breath and the low growl in his throat. This is what they had both been waiting for. The point when the moon reached its peak in the night sky.

She turned to see the man hunched over, his long arms dangling to the ground. He growled louder as his clothes tore open to reveal his furry back. His eyes yellowed and his teeth elongated. Then he snarled at her and wasted no time before lunging at her.

He was frozen in mid air, his back legs thrown out behind him, his front legs almost scratching her face. Her wand raised her wand from her side as two guards stepped from the shadows with a large silver cage.

"Mr Grayson, this is not the way two adults discuss things," she admonished as she lowered the man into the silver cage and ordered the guards to lock it.

"We will continue our discussion when you are a bit more... civilized," she said to the snarling werewolf within the cage, visibly refraining from touching its sides. She walked out of the room as the guards moved the cage out behind her. They would put her guest up in better accommodations.

Patrick met her outside in the hallway, "How did things go, Madam?"

She gave him a small smile and then pointed to the subdued werewolf in the cage behind her, "Just as expected, Patrick." Then she said to the guards, "Please notify me when he has transformed back. We have much to discuss."

* * *

Fudge pulled a handkerchief from his breast-pocket as he rose from his desk. The Malfoy boy had finally gone to the lunchroom to take his lunch and Fudge felt he could actually breathe. It was so unsettling to have the young man sitting at the desk across from him in what used to be his private sanctuary at the Ministry. Every time he looked up, the boy was watching him, making scoffing noises and writing on a piece of parchment. Every document Fudge read, the Malfoy boy had to read afterwards, no matter how confidential. It was a breach of privacies and ethics but it would be hypocritical to say that he finally cared about that sort of thing now.

His eyes fell on a manila folder on his desk, Peterson and Franklin's report on Rowle's disappearance. They needed some information, something only he had access to the correct files. Maybe he could use this free moment away from the Malfoy boy's scrutiny to investigate for himself.

He exited his office with the folder in hand, looking up and down the narrow corridor. To his right down the hall and on the second left was the lunchroom. The boy always took an hour to eat and he had only been gone fifteen minutes. Hopefully this wouldn't take too long.

He turned left instead, taking the lifts down to the archives. Inserting his wand into the space near the door caused the doors to open and he quickly stepped inside, letting it close behind him.

He was now in a large room with towering stacks of files and tall cabinets. Some were bursting at the corners with more and more manila folders, other held dark artifacts which pulsed with energy. Fudge made sure to stay clear of those cabinets as he opened the directory near the door.

After finding the correct entry, he walked among the narrow aisles until he came to wall of many thin filing cabinets. Taking the fourth from the wall and climbing the ladder, he ended up opening the twelfth drawer. With a quick look, he pulled out what he was looking for and stepped down.

He moved to one of the small tables in the centre of the room and lit the candle on the desk, its height never changing and the wax never dripping.

_"Albert Frank Prince. Born: May 6, 1941. Disappeared from their homes. Reported: August 7, 1980. Bodies unrecovered. No sign of forced entry. No missing items. No missing funds. Assumed dead. Cause unknown."_

_"Adam Thomas Prince. Born: September 17, 1943. Disappeared from their homes. Reported: August 7, 1980. Bodies unrecovered. No sign of forced entry. No missing items. No missing funds. Assumed dead. Cause unknown."_

It was the strangest thing at the time. It was unheard of for Princes to just walk out of their homes and it was discovered that they were probably missing for days before they were reported. The disappearances afterwards though seemed to be just like this one, suggesting they were by the same crafty person.

He continued reading the brothers' files. They were wild things in their youth, participating in many Muggle raids for fun, as purebloods were wont to do at the time. There was a record here for a visit to a home in Little Whinging in 1959. Two Muggles dead. One relocated. A Lucille Prickett. Fudge flipped the page. A muggle girl wasn't important to the task at hand.

He looked back up to the top at the details of the disappearance, reading more intently than before. '_No sign of forced entry_...' '_everything in place_...' '_house-elves saw nothing_...' There was another line but it seemed to be slightly scratched out. Fudge squinted and could slightly make out _"Abbott signature detected"_

Fudge thought to himself. Based on what he knew, the last of the Abbotts had died out years before the Princes' disappearance. It must have been a mistake really since there was no way an Abbott could trip the wards...

"Minister Fudge," a voice called out, slightly muffled by the many files and objects in the room.

Fudge jumped and looked up as he saw the young Malfoy walking towards him. "How did you get in here?" he asked. The door was told to only detect certain wand signatures and was not coded to detect the boy's.

"That is not important," he said dismissively. "I went back to your office to find you were not there so I came to look for you." Then his eyes fell on the file under Fudge's hands. "What are you reading?"

Fudge's eyes darted from the boy's face to the open folder. What could he do now? If he resisted, the boy would surely tell his father and Lucius Malfoy would ensure he saw the file for himself, only achieving in lessening what little favour he had in the man's eyes.

Reluctantly he handed the folder to the Malfoy boy. His eyes glossed over the words. Fudge could tell the boy recognized the names as well, all purebloods knew the Princes, but he had no idea of the details of an event which happened before his birth. After a moment, he handed the folder back to Fudge. "Are you done in here?" he asked haughtily, not even waiting for a response before he turned back to the exit.

Fudge looked on more time at the file, his eyes travelling to the last thing he read, _"Abbott signature detected."_ He replaced the file in the appropriate drawer and followed after the young boy, wondering how much of a mistake that line was.

* * *

Hermione sat in her room beneath the large bay window, a lovely breeze wafting through the open space and catching a few strands of her air. Her eyes ran across the words of the second book she was reading today. There were so many in the bookcase here, she had had a difficult time deciding which one to choose, but that just increased her excitement and enthusiasm.

However, sometimes her mind would drift from the page and she would think about her friends and family. It had been a while since she last saw them, last heard their voices or sat down with them for a meal. She missed them dearly and she wondered if they were worried about her, if they were looking for her, if they would take her away from this place.

This place was great though, try as she did to find something wrong. The people here were friendly and hard workers who got along well with everyone. The organization ran like a well-oiled machine as everyone did as they were told to help and better the community.

But then there was the bad side of the place: the pureblood quarters. That had been a horrific experience for her. She could still remember them closing in on her, the leers and jeers they spouted and the quick intervention of the guards which stood nearby. What they had said was true as well and it reminded her that though Her organization was a paradise to the surface-dwellers, she was still a dictator for keeping people prisoners.

But didn't they deserve it? She didn't lock them up simply because of their blood. They had done terrible things to those of her kind, whose blood they deemed inferior to their own. They had killed, disfigured, raped and harmed in the name of blood, and they were to be brought to justice. She was doing that in Hermione and all the others who had been mistreated. Hermione should be happy but she had a nagging feeling that there was still something more sinister she did not see.

Then there was the bond she had made, the promise of her loyalty to Her. Binding magic was ancient and unforgiving, the consequences of breaking the bond dire. She remembered the words of the vow and she hoped she would never have to be called to act upon it. But so far, she had just been to herself or staying with the other guests, and she felt safe her.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," Hermione called, marking her place in her book before closing it.

The door opened and Lotty entered the room holding a large bundle in her hand. "Madam requests Miss' presence at the ceremony this evening," the elderly house-elf said.

"Ceremony?" Hermione asked as she rose from the chair by the window. "What ceremony?"

The house-elf's eyes widened, "The ceremony, Miss. Very important." She grabbed Hermione's hand. "I will help Miss get ready."

Hermione just followed the elf as she dragged her out of the room and down the hall.

* * *

She walked out of her quarters in the company of Patrick and her guards, her staff held at her side, dressed in a flowing white gown which sparkled in the light from the sconces on the wall and a small tiara was nestled in her blonde hair. Though she had done this many times before, she always felt a bit tense before her ceremonies. Everything had to go perfectly, but she had faith in her family's ability to get everything ready. There was only one variable that was somewhat unpredictable.

"How is Mr Grayson?" she asked.

"We have been attending to his needs as well as possible and he has returned to his normal state though he is still uncooperative," Patrick reported.

She frowned. "That is a shame. I had thought he would change his attitude enough for me to include him as a guest of honour before our ceremony."

They arrived outside a plain brown door and Patrick held it open for her to past through before following behind, the two guards remaining stationed in the hallway. Inside, there were two women who were dressing the werewolf for the ceremony. His hands were restrained behind his back as he watched the women move about him, however as she entered the room, he looked over to glare at her.

"You!" he spat. He bared his teeth at her, his sudden change in mood scaring the women, but she continued to walk towards him. Her face adopted an impassive expression as she told the women to leave. They bowed to her before quickly making their way to the door.

"Mr Grayson, you clean up nicely," she said with a smile once they were gone, walking around him to survey the attendants' work.

"What is going on?" he asked her. "Why are they doing this?"

"Tonight, I am holding a function for the newest members of my family and I had hoped you would join me on better terms," she explained. "I have heard that you are still not comfortable here."

"If this is truly how you treat your 'guests', I want no part of you or your family," he said.

"Me?" she asked. "I am not the one who came here with the intent of ripping a hole out of your neck. I have clothed you, fed you, and look about your needs for the past few days, which I know is always difficult after a transformation."

"Which all pales in comparison to you keeping me locked in this room like an animal," he said, lunging for her but was held back by a mysterious force pulling on his neck. He snarled, "My pack will come and they will find you and kill everyone here."

"Your pack has made no attempt to find you, and if they are as loyal to you as you claim, I would be worried as to why they have not," she said. "But in the meantime, you will be attending my function tonight. You will play a large role tonight."

"What do you have planned for me?" he asked.

She smiled at him and said, "You are part of tonight's entertainment."

* * *

Hermione followed the house-elf out of her room feeling cleaner than she had ever felt before. She had been pampered and groomed to her heart's content by Lotty and another attendant, who washed her hair and body, dressed her in a lovely long green dress which had been the bundle in the house-elf's hands, and fixed her face.

"Where are we going now?" Hermione asked.

"We are going to the main ballroom where you will join the new guests, Miss," Lotty said.

Hermione was about to ask more when there was a slight commotion up ahead. She looked up to see many of the girls who had come into the compound the day after her standing outside two large doors. Hermione scanned their faces, trying to recognize one she had possibly spoken to when her eye caught her little friend, Sarah's.

"Hermione?" the little girl asked, running up to her. She was dressed in a cute pink dress, her short cropped hair falling around her ears and adorned with a matching pink barrette. "You're here."

"It's nice to see you too," Hermione said as the girl hugged her tightly around her legs.

"Isn't this amazing?" the little girl asked. "I've never seen everyone so dressed up."

Hermione looked around. Indeed, everyone was dressed in long dresses matching her own in a wide array of colours. It was obvious to separate the Veelas from the normal Muggle girls and witches. They just had a shimmer about them, their skin and hair glowing as if decorated in diamonds. All the girls wore large smiles on their faces as they chattered happily to one another.

The doors opened and one of the compound guards ushered everyone inside. Hermione's eyes widened as she took it all in, not used to such splendour. The ballroom was elegantly decorated with long streams of cloth hanging from the ceiling. There were two chandeliers hanging down and bathing the room a warm yellow light. There were many guests already in the ballroom consisting of humans, werewolves and vampires. Some were sitting at the array of tables which covered the marble floor, others were conversing along the edges of the room. She saw a large tank with a few merpeople near the back of the room and a couple of giants standing out on the lawn by an open window beneath the stars.

Two women seated Hermione and the other girls at their tables, Hermione placed at one near the front of the room near to the head table. Currently, all the seats there were empty and she wondered where She could be. Maybe she would make a grand entrance to match the occasion.

"How is everyone?" a warm voice said and Hermione turned to see Her, again realizing her folly. She wouldn't be grand but a friend, a guardian and a protector. She would welcome everyone personally to her ceremony.

She pulled Hermione into an embrace and Hermione returned it, already infected by Her smile. "I am fine," Hermione said.

She smiled and said, "That is good. The ceremony is about to start right after I speak to Magoyan by the window," leaving Hermione to speak to the giant standing on the lawn.

"Hermione!" someone said. Hermione turned to see Martha and Penelope walking over to them, the pair dressed beautifully as well. "Are you having a good time at your first ceremony?"

"Yes, actually. The place is amazing," she said as she embraced her two friends. "But I have no idea what is going to happen."

Martha chuckled a bit uneasily. "I remember by first ceremony. It was a bit unsettling but I've gotten used to it."

"Unsettling?" Hermione asked, looking between the two girls. "What is this a ceremony for?"

"It's a fealty thing where the new family members bond with Madam," Martha explained.

"I already did that with Her," Hermione said. "It was painful but not unsettling."

"The girls probably haven't yet," Martha said. "That isn't the unsettling part."

"I can get a bit too much to handle but you'll be fine," Penelope said, placing a comforting hand on Hermione's elbow.

She walked to the front of the ballroom to the podium and said, "Good evening everyone and thanks to all that could make tonight. I'd like to give a special welcome to Magoyan of Sector G1, Josef and his mate of Sector V2, Murtagh of our newest sector, Sector C2, and Mr and Mrs Ylid of M3."

Everyone clapped politely as each person mentioned smiled warmly about at the crowd.

"We are all gathered here tonight to welcome a group of young women who have greatly suffered at the hands of those who would think themselves better than us, simply because they were born privileged. These girls had been mistreated and abused for most of their lives, they have watched the death of some of their closest companions, constantly living in fear that they would be next. I regret not getting not knowing about their plight and not being able to get to them in time, but I must thank Hermione Granger."

Hermione's eyes widened as She gestured to her at her table. Everyone's eyes turned towards her and she felt her face grow hot under their stare.

"Hermione almost suffered the same fate and I hadn't met her in Muggle London a few days ago, she and these girls would not be here today. You have my utmost gratitude, Hermione."

She turned back to the ballroom and said, "Tonight, we make these girls' acceptance into our family official, and they will become your sisters. They will live with you, work with you and fight with you when that time comes. You will trust them with your life as you trust me with yours."

She then asked the girls to come forward. Hermione caught Sarah's eyes as she walked to the front of the room and gave her an encouraging smile. This couldn't be too bad, right?

She stood before them and told all the girls to fall to their knees and hold their heads down. She took her staff from one of the councillors at the head table and stood before each girl, raising it above their head before tapping each shoulder and then the crown of their head.

Then She knelt down in front of them, mimicking their posture and said, "We are ready to begin."

_"Ego sum apud te,"_ She said clearly, enunciating each syllable perfectly. A white light shone out of Her chest.

A few of the girls looked up in amazement but they continued the oath with their part, "_Sicut et ego vobiscum._" A similar light shone from each of their chests.

Some girls started to get a bit scared but they finished the last part in unison with Her, "_Nos unum sumus_."

The white lights shone brighter and all the girls screamed out, clutching their hands over the light, some of them collapsing onto the floor. Hermione almost ran forward when she saw Sarah fall back, the screams from her throat dying out as she passed out.

Eventually the white lights faded and women who were waiting in the wings rushed forward to tend to fallen girls. She stood shakily to her feet, her hand clutching her heart and her breathing fast, but she looked down at the girls proudly. She then turned to the ballroom and said, "Please welcome your newest sisters.

Everyone cheered, though some held sympathetic gazes as the girls who had passed out were taken out of the ballroom. The remaining girls rose to their feet to take a bow before being led back to their tables. "You will understand that some of them will have to be taken to the infirmary so you will be able to meet them soon. For the rest of us, let us dine together as one."

A different array of foods suddenly appeared on the table, reminding Hermione of her dinners at Hogwarts. There were different meats and vegetables, and as she looked about the room, she noticed that it was also based on the guests around each table. The centaurs only feasted on various roasted birds while the giants had large platters of deer to eat.

After the meal was eaten, She returned to the podium. "Now, I have something to present to the new girls." She gestured to the guards and they opened a side door to escort a few people in. They were dressed up in their best, jewels and expensive robes, as they were led to the front of ballroom. They were the purebloods she had met, the man and the woman, and it seemed that she was not the only person who recognized them. The Veelas began to hiss, their features turning terrifying, but the purebloods didn't flinch. They just stared boredly out at the crowd before they stopped before the podium

"For those who do not know, please welcome, Mr Samuel and Mrs Fletchley. They are two of those I was able to track down who once owned our sisters. I give them the gift of closure," She said as she invited the girls to come forward. "You are free to do whatever you please."

None of the girls did anything for a moment, most of them frightened upon seeing their ex-masters after so long. But then one of the angry Veelas stepped forward. She held her head high before spitting into the face of the pureblood woman. "For years, you let your business associates take what they wanted from me and now I am finally free from you!" she screamed.

The pureblood woman blinked, taking her hand to wipe the spittle off her cheek and said, "And you are still less than filth. I gave you purpose, the only purpose someone like you has in this world, I-"

The woman said no more as the Veela girl swiped across her face, her nails digging into her skin to draw blood. "No!" she screamed as she slashed. "No!" she poked out the woman's right eye. "No!" she slashed the woman's throat, and she fell forward, her blood pooling on the marble floor, the same colour as everyone else's.

The Veela stepped back in surprise, not believing that she had done that. She looked down at her dress, the silver sparkles on the hem splattered with red, and blood clumped under her fingernails. She looked towards Her and said, "Madam, I am so sorry. I-" but She just pulled the girl into her arms comfortingly and said, "You did what you felt you had to. It is alright."

She looked over the young Veela's shoulder at the pureblood man. "Do you have anything to add, Mr Samuel?"

The man had been looking down at his colleague's body, listening to the sound of the blood seeping through the slit in her neck. "No," he said.

She nodded and then looked to the girls. "Anyone else?"

The girls were stunned by the Veela's actions as well, having seen the woman's life taken so suddenly, and without reproach from Her or the crowd.

She took their silence as their answer and turned to the guards. "Please escort Mr Samuel's back to his quarters and take care of Mrs Fletchley," she said. "And please take Tracey to the infirmary as well. She may need something to help her calm down."

No sounds were heard as the guards collected the woman's body off the marble and led Mr Samuel out of the room. Another woman came forward, quickly vanishing the woman's blood, making the scene appear as it had before. If not for the looks of surprise frozen on the girls' faces, Hermione would have thought nothing had happened.

"Hermione," She called after sending the girls back to their seats and Tracey had left the ballroom. Hermione's heart stopped as she felt the woman's eyes on her. Anything she had anticipated from Martha and Penelope's words had not been that.

"Hermione," She called again, a slight impatience heard in her tone. Hermione rose from her seat and walked over to the woman. "Do you have your wand?" She asked. Hermione nodded, producing it upon the woman's request. She gave Hermione a small smile before indicating to her guards. The side door opened again and this time a large man entered. He was dressed in tailored robes as well, his face recently shaven and his hair neatly groomed. He snapped his jaws at the guests as he came towards the podium, and Hermione could see they were yellow and pointed, able to rip flesh from bone.

"Hermione, I'd like you meet Mr Marcus Grayson," She said when he stopped in front of them. "He is the alpha of a pack of werewolves in Australia that needs my help, however he requested an audience with me the other night to discuss some urgent matters. The discussion turned... violent and Mr Grayson was quickly incapacitated." She walked around Hermione before adding, "I want you to prove your loyalty to me so that he understands just how close our family is."

Hermione's mouth opened. "You want me to what?"

She gestured to the guards and they pulled the man's arms and legs apart, giving Hermione a clear shot at his torso. "He must learn that my family will not take such an attack against me, from the oldest member to one of the newest. The girls are currently too distraught, but you..." She stepped back and said, "Go ahead, Hermione."

Hermione's throat felt dry as she stared into the man's eyes. The veins on his neck bulged as he stared down at her. The muscles in his legs and arms tensed against his restraints but it didn't help much. He was at Hermione's mercy. Her wand felt foreign in her hand as she raised it under Her expectant stare. She was to curse this man?

"Now!" She screeched. The spell slipped passed Hermione's lips and the werewolf screamed as a large slash appeared across his chest, blood staining his black dress robes.

Hermione ended the spell, her wand clattering on the marble floor as it fell from her hands in surprise. She had really done it. The werewolf fell forward onto his hands and knees, his thick red blood falling in fat droplets to the floor. She stumbled back slowly, one foot behind the other before she broke out in a run towards the ballroom doors.

* * *

Everyone thought the pureblood disappearances started with that of the Prince brothers, but they were not Lucille's first violent act. That honour went to her parents when Lucille was just fourteen years old. She rationalizes their death daily, knowing that they deserved it for the hell they put her through since they took her in when she was eight.

They had always mistreated her, worked her like a house-elf who was lower than the dirt on their shoe. Though Lucille knew that this was not right, she had accepted her place in the household, and made friends with the other elves in the home. Even with the intervention of the great Dumbledore, her parents' attitudes towards her had not changed much.

It had gotten worse once she had been sorted. In the Wizarding World of Britain, all children went to Hogwarts and were sorted into houses by an omniscient Hat. She remembered being excited to finally be at the school, awaiting her turn to sit under the Hat. They spoke a bit, talking about her strengths and weaknesses, before it cried out "Hufflepuff" for the all the Hall to hear. She was all smiles until the next morning when she received a Howler from her parents, the pain from her singed fingerprints replacing her smiles with tears. Being in Hufflepuff was not a thing for an "Abbott" to do, even if she wasn't truly one.

Christmas of her First Year was the first time Marissa used an Unforgiveable on her. She screamed her little lungs out despite knowing that no one could help her, no one would rush to her aid. The great wizard Dumbledore could not hear her cries or see the lacerations and bruises on her body. She was locked in her bedroom for the entire time and would have starved if not for her house-elf friends. She returned to school and thought to speak to the great wizard but could never get him alone. He was a busy man who had no time for a small girl like her and her problems.

Every return home was the same thing, even though there was no way she could change houses. But even if she were to become a Slytherin overnight, that would not make Marissa or Florean happy. They hated her and everything she was, and they would show her just how little she mattered to them.

But at the end of her Fourth Year, things had changed. Lucille remembered the moment clearly. She had been screaming on the floor, her chest muscles sore from thrashing for such an extended period. It had been the longest Marissa had ever held the torture curse on her. Florean leant against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, just staring at her, fascinated by how loud she could scream. He had never held the wand to her, he left the 'disciplining' to his wife, but by doing nothing, he was just as bad.

Marissa pulled the spell, allowing Lucille to take in a few painful gulps. She couldn't understand what Marissa got out of this. Nothing changed and Lucille was always left broken on the floor. She wished it all would just stop. "Kill me," Lucille said, her words slightly muffled by her swollen tongue.

Marissa tutted. "I can't do that, girl. People will ask questions," she said. She cast the curse again and Lucille's mouth clamped onto her tongue once more, blood seeping out of her mouth.

Thankfully, Marissa didn't hold this one as long. She leaned down before Lucille felt something warm and wet on her face. "If only this curse could remove that impure blood from your veins," she whispered into the girl's ear before she towards the doorway.

Rage built up in Lucille's chest, slightly numbing some of the pain in her muscles and dulling the taste of blood in her mouth where she had bitten her tongue. After all this time, Marissa couldn't just let this go.

She rose shakily to her feet, her head and chest aching, before she lunged at Marissa's retreating back. Caught unaware, the woman fell forward, her wand clattering out of her hand as Lucille fell on top of her. The teenager quickly grabbed the wand and held towards Florean and without a second thought said, "Crucio!"

The pain began thrashing on the floor in the hallway, his recently drawn wand falling out of his hand. "Florean!" Marissa cried beneath her. Lucille picked the woman's head up by her hair and slammed her face into the hardwood floor, the adrenaline fuelling her rage.

But in Lucille's weakened state, Marissa was still stronger. She managed to throw the teen off her back which also ended the spell on Florean as well. Marissa crawled over to her husband who was breathing heavily on his back. She then looked over at Lucille, "Just wait until I get my wand back , girl. I don't care anymore about others. You are dead!"

Lucille held the wand out in front of her and said, "No, you are!"

Two green flashes later, the Abbott line ended and Lucille finally fainted from her injuries.

She woke up some time after in her bed and her wounds tended to. She got out of bed and looked about the house until she found the Abbotts in their bedroom as well, their expressions frightened and incredible. Their chests were still and their skin cold. She had actually done it.

Things following were surprisingly easy when she thought about it. Lucille returned to school happier than before. Her friends took notice but when asked, she just said she had a very good summer and had spent a lot of the time in her parents' extensive library reading.

The Abbotts were rumoured to have become recluses, refraining from holding dinner parties and functions to instead just live a quiet life at home and continuing to donate generously to various charities and organizations. They had no guests though if someone decided to stop in, a pureblood woman curious about the elusive Marissa Abbott's whereabouts, she would comment on Marissa's age, her muscles stiff and not as they one more, she seemed distracted and didn't offer much to the conversation since she was out of the grapevine, but the refreshments her house-elves made were delightful. No one saw Florean, but that wasn't new for they rarely did before. He was a busy man though no one knew what he did. They placed their adopted daughter's name on all their documents and affairs, no one thinking it strange as the Abbotts were getting up in age and could no longer manage their finances alone.

Eventually, the Abbotts were reported dead in 1971. They had gone sailing on their private yacht before it crashed, sending both of them overboard. Their bodies were unrecoverable. Their adopted daughter had already moved out of the house and when asked, she said that it was unfortunate circumstances that led to their deaths. She has not been heard of since though the Abbotts vaults have been drained.


End file.
